Extinction Age (21 page)

Beckham seemed to consider her words for a moment and then
nodded. “Tomorrow morning. I’m leading a strike team with Horn, Chow, and
Lombardi to Raven Rock.”

Kate was too tired to protest. And even if she did, it
wouldn’t matter. She knew him well enough to know that he would never leave his
men or back down from a mission.

“I understand,” was all Kate managed to say.

Beckham studied her and said, “You’re okay with this?”

“What can I do? My work ended up killing billions and
creating monsters. And now you’re going back into harm’s way. Because of me.”

“Chances are I’d be going out there anyway, Kate. Besides, if
your drug works, we could end this.”

Kate felt a tear welling in her eye. She wiped it away with
her sleeve. This was not the time to be weak; this was the time to pull on
whatever strength she had left and tell Beckham what she’d learned from the
tape.

“Colonel Wood is connected to Colonel Gibson,” Kate
whispered.

Beckham ran a hand over his closely trimmed hairline. “That’s
a pretty serious allegation, but honestly, it’s one I considered myself.”

“Remember the video of Lieutenant Brett? The one where
Colonel Gibson is shown interrogating the Marine?”

“Yeah…”

“Wood was there.”

Beckham’s hand stopped on his scalp and he narrowed his eyes.
“You’re certain?”

“Yes.”

Beckham cursed. “Jensen told me Wood can’t be trusted, but if
the man has ties to Building 8...”

“What do we do?”

“I’d try to get a message through to General Kennor, but
chances are he already knows.”

“I told Ellis the same thing.”

Beckham shook his head. “Your weapon won’t affect humans,
right?”

“It shouldn’t have many side effects. Why?”

“One of the most important things I’ve learned in my career
is knowing when to strike. Now is not that time. I say we wait. We complete
Operation Extinction, deploy your weapon, and destroy the Variants. Then we can
deal with Wood and Kennor.”

Kate took a seat on the bed and took a few minutes to think.
He was right—now wasn’t the time to pursue what many would consider a
conspiracy theory. Even if they could, Wood and Kennor had a damn army to
protect them. Who would believe Kate? Even if she could convince people Wood
was involved in the VX-99 project, what good would it do to bring that out now?

What mattered right now was saving humanity. They could deal
with the men who had helped destroy it later.

Forcing a smile, she patted the bed. Apollo brushed up
against her leg, and she reached down to stroke his fur coat.

“I was gesturing for Reed, not you,” Kate chuckled.

Beckham plopped down next to her and said, “What do you
think, boy?”

Kate placed her hand on Beckham’s thigh and leaned in to
whisper in his ear, “Apollo thinks it’s time to go in the hall so we can have
some privacy.”

Beckham snapped his fingers and led the dog to the door.
Lying back on the bed, Kate closed her eyes, a sudden moment of fear passing
over her. At first she wasn’t sure what had sparked it, but when Beckham
hurried back over to her, she realized it was the same fear she’d had before
every one of his missions—the fear that this would be their last night
together.

A crimson bubble with veins of purple
crested the horizon as the sun rose over the water. Beckham and his fire-team
fought the cool morning wind that whipped across the island. They left the
armory equipped with enough firepower to take on an army of Variants.

Horn carried an M249 light machine gun. Chow and Beckham had
both picked up M4s. Their vests were stuffed with as many magazines as they
could carry. Lombardi had opted for an S&W AS 12-gauge select-fire shotgun.
An unusual choice, but it would certainly stop any Variants they encountered at
Raven Rock.

The short walk from the armory to the tarmac provided Beckham
with enough time to get a read on his men. Despite the fact he was leaving his
girls, Horn’s freckled face showed no sign of apprehension. He smoked a
cigarette as he walked, the massive gun slung casually across his back.

Chow wore a hardened look that told Beckham he was still
harboring anger inside for Jinx’s death. He’d suppressed it on the
Truxtun
,
but Beckham was worried Chow couldn’t hold it in forever. 

Beckham looked at Lombardi next and said, “Have you faced the
Variants in the field?”

“Does dealing with them here on the island count?”

Horn laughed. “Nope.”

Lombardi nervously scratched his beak of a nose. Beckham made
a note to keep him off point when they reached the objective. Dealing with
Variants chained to the ground in holding cells was much different than out in
the wild.

Ahead, civilians and soldiers were gathering at the concrete
barriers on the edge of the tarmac. The sight of Kate, Meg, Riley, Fitz, and
Horn’s girls sent a chill through Beckham, a combination of pride and fear.
There were other familiar faces that stuck out in the crowd. Red and Donna
stood there with Bo. The boy caught Beckham’s gaze and raised a small hand into
the air.

Beckham walked over to them and slung his rifle over his
shoulder. “How are you guys doing?”

“Can’t complain,” Red replied. “Got a warm bed and enough
food. We have you to thank for that.”

Donna smiled and pulled Bo closer to her. “Did you want to
tell Master Sergeant Beckham something?”

Bo tucked his head against her stomach and then twisted his
face slightly so that one eye was on Beckham. He grinned and said, “Thank you,
Mr. Master Sergeant.”

“Welcome, kid,” Beckham said. He exchanged a nod with Red and
continued toward Kate and the others.

Tasha and Jenny rushed over to Horn. Jenny wrapped her arms
around his right leg and said, “Don’t go, Daddy!”

Beckham’s heart melted at the sight. “Don’t worry, I’ll take
care of him.”

“Promise,” Tasha said.

“Promise.” Beckham gave her a hug and then walked over to the
group of Fitz, Riley, and Meg, saving Kate for last.

“Fitz, Kid. You guys look after everyone while were gone,
okay?”

“Will do, Boss,” Riley said.

Fitz nodded. “Wish I was coming.”

“So do I,” Riley said, his eyes downcast.

Beckham considered his next words carefully. “Protecting
these people is just as important. ,” he said. “If the Variants attack the
island again, we need both of you to hold them off.”

“Don’t forget about me,” Meg said. She stroked the handle of
a knife tucked into her waistband and winked at Beckham.

“That’s not the same one I loaned you in New York is it?”

“Nope. Riley gave it to me.”,” Meg said.

A shit-eating grin streaked across Riley’s face, and Beckham
couldn’t hold back a chuckle. The kid had always loved women, and he’d made it
no secret that he was attracted to Meg. From what little he knew about her,
giving her a knife was better than a bouquet of flowers.

The sad whine of a dog sounded over the chatter from the
crowd. Apollo sat at Kate’s feet. Like Fitz and Riley, the dog would protect
her to the end. Beckham continued over to them and locked eyes with Kate.

“Try not to worry,” he said.

She folded her arms across her chest and frowned. “You know
that’s not going to happen.”

“I’m coming home,” Beckham said. “I promise you.” He planted
a delicate kiss on her lips and then gave Apollo a quick rub on the head.

“Be careful,” Kate said.

Beckham nodded and kissed her again. The blades of the
Blackhawks were already chopping through the air in the distance, and he forced
himself to pull away.

“Let’s go,” Beckham said. He began to lead his team to the
birds but had to stop when Apollo darted after them.

“You have to stay here, boy,” Beckham said.

Apollo whined and sat down, his tail thumping forlornly.
Beckham waved his men on, and they continued across the tarmac toward Jensen
and Smith. 

“Good luck,” Jensen said. He reached out to shake Beckham’s
hand and added, “You know I’d come with if I could.”

“I know, sir.”

Jensen’s lips spread into a small grin beneath his mustache.
“If you find any chew in the warehouse, snag a few cans.”

“Will do, sir,” Beckham said. He rushed over to the chopper
in a low hunch and climbed inside. Horn and Chow followed, flanking him on both
sides in the doorway. The crowd watched from the edge of the tarmac as the
pilots performed their final checks.

Wood was already back at Central Command, leaving his men to
watch the island while Beckham and the rest of the teams went on the mission.
Beckham could just imagine Wood toadying up to Kennor, both of them hiding out
in the bunker at Offutt. Another image emerged in his mind, and he saw a
younger Colonel Wood standing side by side with Colonel Gibson outside
Lieutenant Brett’s cell. He didn’t know the details, but he felt in his gut
that Wood had been involved in creating the monsters they now faced. They’d
made hell on earth, but it was Beckham and his men who had to deal with it.

As the chopper ascended into the air, he kept his gaze on the
crowd, knowing in his heart that once everyone he loved was safe, he would get
his revenge for humanity.

-21-

G
eneral Kennor studied the picture of his
grandkids. For the first four days after he’d arrived at Offutt Air Force Base,
he hadn’t been able to bring himself to look at their innocent faces. Every
time he did, he imagined them being torn to shreds by the Variants.

That’s why he’d put Colonel Wood in charge of all science
operations. No one knew VX-99 better than him—at least, no one living. If
anyone could defeat the Variants, it was Wood.

At first, when General Johnson had informed Kennor of Wood’s
connection to Gibson, he had considered tossing Wood into a prison cell and
throwing away the key. But Kennor was a practical man and saw the situation for
what it was—an opportunity. Wood understood the details of VX-99, and his
country needed that knowledge.

A rap on the door startled Kennor. He put the picture down
and said, “It’s open.”

Wood himself opened the door and strode inside. “General,” he
said, throwing up an impeccable salute.

“Colonel,” Kennor replied. He raised a return salute and then
gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

Wood straightened his uniform and slid into the chair. “Plans
are in motion, sir. We have over one hundred strike-teams from multiple bases
participating in Operation Extinction.”

“Excellent news. How is the plan for stage two coming along?”

“Very good, sir. Once we collect the drugs, we’ll ship them
to four locations including Plum Island. All of the antibody reactors are on
stand by.
”

Wood continued speaking, occasionally stroking the fingers of
one hand down his pockmarked cheek, but Kennor was hardly listening. He was
thinking of his daughter, his son in-law, and their kids. Men like Wood were
the reason they were gone, yet Wood had put the pieces in place to avenge their
tragic deaths.

It wasn’t ethical. It wasn’t moral. And it wasn’t right by
any stretch of the imagination. Yet history proved that wars were started and
ended by men who didn’t deserve to breathe free air. Wood was one of those
men—and Kennor had become one too. He knew he was no better than Gibson or
Wood, but in the end, morality meant nothing if there wasn’t anyone left to
judge.

There was a less than gentle knock on the door. Kennor
emerged from his thoughts to see Colonel Harris standing in the doorway. His
lips were pressed into a thin line so tight they were almost as white as his
hair.

“I thought I said no interruptions,” Kennor said.

“You did, General, but we have a problem.”

Kennor folded his arms across his chest. “What kind of
problem?”

For the briefest moment, Harris paused. “The Variants,
General. They’ve found us.”

Beckham grabbed a handhold and looked
out over the open door. The bright morning sun glimmered off the skyscrapers of
Baltimore. The reflection of their bird hopped from building to building. They
followed Echo 1 over the city with Echo 3 close behind, their troop holds all
packed full of weary soldiers.

“Remind me why they don’t just send us to a hospital for the
drugs?” Horn asked over the comm.

Beckham pointed to a crater a half-mile away. The burned out
husk of a building protruded out of the center. “That’s why.”

“There aren’t many hospitals left,” Chow said. “And for the
first time in this entire war, Central Command is thinking with their heads.
The FEMA warehouse will have stockpiles of everything from tampons to cancer
drugs.”

“I thought the warehouses were just a myth,” Horn said.

“Apparently not,” Beckham said. “Hopefully the fact they’re
‘secret’ means they haven’t been raided and hostiles are at a minimum.”

Lombardi worked his way to the door. “Wouldn’t count on
that.”

“You know something we don’t?” Beckham asked. He twisted away
from the view to look Lombardi in the eye.

The sergeant shook his head. “Besides what Lieutenant Colonel
Jensen already said? Not really. I just know that Site R had a permanent staff
of three hundred and fifty with room for another two thousand. I’m glad I
didn’t get assigned to Alpha. Mikesell and his team are probably walking into a
slaughterhouse.”

Beckham’s earpiece crackled as one of the pilots said, “ETA
fifteen minutes.”

The chopper flew over woodland and pasture, leaving
civilization behind. The view wasn’t much different than the one he remembered
vividly from April, when Team Ghost had taken an Osprey from Fort Bragg to
Edwards Air Force Base. The leaves had just begun to come in, and a herd of
horses had been galloping through a field of lush green grass, just like the
one below them now.

Spring was Beckham’s favorite time of year because it
signaled new life. But despite the vibrant colors, there was no sign of life
below. No horses, no deer or rabbits. Not live ones, anyway. The bloody
carcasses of a herd of cows dotted one field. He turned from the gruesome
sight. At first, he’d wondered how animals were surviving the apocalypse. Now
he knew that they weren’t. The Variants had eaten most of them.

 “Eyes on Raven Rock,” one of the pilots said. Beckham
scanned the horizon and saw a cluster of red and white radio towers. A multi-layered
fence surrounded the main building and several adjacent structures.

“Make a pass,” Beckham said into the comm.

They circled the area for several minutes, allowing Beckham
to sync his mental map with the one he held in his hand. He could see the access
roads that connected a series of concrete portals leading into the hills. There
were four in total, marked A through D. According to the map, Beckham was
looking for portals C and D. The inner road would take his team south, past a
ventilation control room, a domestic reservoir, and even a bowling alley. From
there the underground passages curved to the west and connected with portals A
and B. In the middle, there were two power plants, a second industrial
reservoir, and five buildings that included living quarters and the
Presidential Command Center.

The complex was essentially an underground city. The
thirty-ton blast doors were built to withstand a nuclear attack. Unfortunately,
the engineers hadn’t planned on stopping a weapon like the Hemorrhage virus, or
the monsters it created.

A red circle on the map marked the approximate location of
the FEMA facility Beckham was looking for. It was next to the domestic
reservoir. He flicked the map with a gloved finger and slipped it back into his
vest as Echo 1 veered off toward their landing site. They set down next to a
security building while Echo 2 and 3 continued on another pass.

Beckham scanned the access roads for a second time. There was
a mixture of abandoned civilian and military vehicles clogging the pavement.
Most of them were parked near the C portal. He flipped his mini-mike to his
lips. “Bravo 1, Charlie 1. You copy? Over.”

“Valentine,” came the reply. Beckham wouldn’t waste his time
reminding the man he was subordinate, but he’d be damned if he’d call the guy
by name.

“Your team takes portal C, we’ll take D. We’ll meet at the
domestic reservoir,” Beckham said. “And maintain radio discipline once we’re
inside.”

“Roger that,” Valentine said.

Beckham stifled another urge to give Valentine a dressing
down. Wood’s man would either help or hinder on this mission, but Beckham was
betting on the latter. And if he got in the way of doing what was right, or
worse… Beckham shook the thought aside and searched the area for a potential
LZ, focusing on an empty stretch of road.

“Put us down in between that Humvee and the semi,” he said
over the comm.

The clatter from the final pre-combat gear and weapons checks
echoed through the troop hold. Beckham slammed a magazine into his M4 and then
performed the most important final preparation by patting the pocket containing
the picture of his mom.

“Hope she’s watching over us,” Horn said as he joined Beckham
at the open door. “Hope she’s watching over my girls at Plum Island, too.”

“She is, Big Horn,” Beckham said. He watched the concrete
rise toward them as the pilots descended over the road. The landing skids
connected with a crunch a moment later, and Beckham shouted, “Go, go, go!”

Boots pounded the pavement as Beckham took point and raced
toward a green fence. Through the chain links, he could see a massive tunnel
cut into the hills. When he reached the gate, Echo 2 pulled overhead and
vanished over the wooded bluff above the entrance.

Beckham turned to check on Valentine and his men at the other
portal. The sergeant had already breeched the gate, and his team was running
through.

The decision to split up wasn’t an easy one for Beckham. A
major problem with Operation Extinction was intel, or lack thereof. That, and
the fact the medical infrastructure had been all but destroyed during the
firebombing of the cities during the initial outbreak. It was yet another
reason he was questioning the mission. Coming to Raven Rock seemed more like a
rescue op for any surviving political dignitaries or military brass. Beckham
was all about saving more souls, but he hated feeling like cannon fodder. If
that turned out to be the case, he’d have something to say to Wood—if he made
it back at all.

“Looks secure,” Lombardi said. “No sign of forced entry.”

Chow pulled a string of bloody goo hanging between links and
held it up under the sun. “No sign, huh?” he said with a raised brow. “Looks
like someone or something opted for an alternative route.” He wiped the blood
on his flak jacket and pointed at the barbwire lining the top of the fence.
Several pieces had been torn away and hung loosely over the side. Dried blood
stained the metal.

Beckham banished any remaining hope for a simple mission.

“Let’s go,” he said, motioning toward the gate. Lombardi
pulled a bolt cutter from his rucksack and snapped through the locks.

“What about a vehicle?” Horn asked.  

“Don’t want to tell anyone we’re coming,” Beckham said. “We
proceed on foot until we clear the facility. Horn, you’re on point. The rest of
you fall into line and keep combat intervals. If we find Variants, remember
your field of fire. Nobody pull any cowboy shit.”

He flashed a hand signal, and Chow pulled the gate back. Horn
burst through with his M249 leveled at the lip of the tunnel. As they ran,
Beckham mentally identified the escape routes he’d noted earlier on the map.

Ahead, Horn melted into the shadows. Beckham followed close
behind, checking the walls, ceiling, and ground for any sign of struggle. He’d
half expected to discover a battlefield inside with empty bullet casings and
corpses. Besides a few streaks of blood, there wasn’t anything but concrete and
rock.

Horn stopped a hundred feet from a gate blocking their
entrance into the inner roadways. Weak rays of sunlight leaking into the tunnel
confirmed what Beckham already knew: the gate leading inside the mountain was
already open.

“Radio discipline from here on out,” Beckham whispered. He
pointed to his eyes, then to Horn, and then to the open gate.

Horn acknowledged with a nod, shouldered his M249, and
marched ahead, heel to toe, just like old times. And, just like old times,
Beckham followed him into the darkness.

“You can’t, Kate,” Ellis was saying.
“You’re too important.”

Kate held a syringe of Kryptonite under a bank of lights in
the small lab room. She steadied her breathing as she stared at her new weapon.
There was no sense of awe that she created something so powerful. In fact, she
could hardly concentrate on her new creation at all.

She was focused on the fact her period was a week late.

Kate wanted to tell Ellis, but she couldn’t. Not yet—not
until she knew for sure. At first she hadn’t given it much thought, attributing
her irregular cycle to the stress. But the more she thought about injecting
herself with the Kryptonite, the more she wondered if it was the right move. If
she was pregnant, it might cause serious complications.