Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12 (3 page)

Rachel had waited outside the showers for me, leading me to
where Irina and Dog were having a meal.  When we walked in, Irina looked
up, then quickly away, a slight blush coloring her pale cheeks.  Despite
myself, I smiled.  If she was embarrassed, it was her own fault. 
Rachel appeared to be struggling to contain some sarcastic remark, and I chose
to ignore her.

It took us nearly fifteen minutes to make it from the
cafeteria to a cavernous hangar built into the side of a nearby mountain. 
We’d descended deep underground, then climbed aboard an electric golf
cart.  Irina drove, navigating a confusing maze of tunnels that seemed to
go on forever. 

As we progressed, we passed countless doors that were marked
with only a number.  They were high-security slabs of chromed steel, not
unlike the vault doors from Los Alamos where I’d first met Irina. 

“Johnson had any luck with these?”  I asked.

Long and Johnson had decided to stay behind with me, rather
than evacuating to Hawaii with Colonel Blanchard.  I hadn’t asked them
why.  They’d made the choice, and I was happy to have them around.

“He’s been able to open every door he’s tried,” Rachel
answered.  “There’s just so many of them, and we’ve not been able to find
anything to tell us which ones might contain something we can make use of.”

“What have you found?”

“Very little we can make sense of,” Irina said as she turned
into a new tunnel.  “Some Chinese and Russian tech that was being
disassembled and inspected.  That was pretty straightforward.  Most
of the rest is projects in various stages of completion, and no one can
understand what they are supposed to do.”

“Except the thing you’re taking me to see?”

“Except that,” she smiled. 

“And, it is?”

“Something the GRU heard rumors was in development, but we
were never able to confirm,” Irina said.  “Now, be patient.  It is
better if you see, rather than I try to explain.”

I looked at her, then Rachel, but neither was giving
anything away.  Frankly, I was struggling not to get irritated with
them.  I don’t like surprises.

Finally, we rolled through a broad opening at the end of a
tunnel into a hangar large enough to easily hold a pair of 747s, with room to
spare.  Irina braked to a stop, and I stared in awe at an impossibly large
aircraft.  At least, that’s what I thought it was.

Stepping out of the golf cart, I looked up at the skin of
the craft, amazed when it changed color to match the difference in its
background as I walked around it.  I stopped, then reversed course,
confirming my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.  As the walls of the room
behind it changed color and texture, the skin of the machine matched them,
rendering it all but invisible. 

“Watch this!”

I looked around at the shout to see Long with his hand on a
large electrical lever.  He pulled it down and brilliant lights set into
the ceiling, far overhead, came to life.  Suddenly, the entire aircraft
became visible, and it was huge.  Easily as long as a 747, it was wedge
shaped with a sharp nose and blunt tail.  Twin rudders stuck up from above
and beneath the back, rectangular exhaust ports for the engines filling the
entire rear surface.

“What the hell is it?”  I asked.

“If it is what we heard of, and I am fairly certain it is,”
Irina began, then paused.

“What?”

“A hypersonic transport with adaptive camouflage. 
Faster than anything in the air, and invisible to both radar and visual
sighting.”

I turned to look at her.  She’d gotten over her
embarrassment and stared back at me.

“I am serious,” she said after a pause.  “Russia and
China were both working on this, as were the Europeans.  If it flies, it
would seem you beat all of us.”

“I don’t get it,” Rachel said.  “I thought it was just
a stealth jet.”

“It is,” Irina answered.  “Only so much more. 
Imagine being able to go from New York to London in twenty minutes.  And
doing it in an aircraft that can’t be detected or tracked.  Or even seen.”

“But we can see it,” Rachel protested.

“Because of the specialty lighting,” Irina said.  “In a
blue sky with only sunlight and maybe some clouds below?  It would be
invisible to the human eye.”

I walked forward and reached up to touch the skin of the
plane.  It was cold and smooth, an unsettling difference from how it
appeared.  I was amazed when the surface around where my hand was in
contact changed color to match my skin.

“Holy shit,” I breathed.  “Does it fly?”

“No idea,” Irina said.  “That is the one skill that
none of us possess.”

“Then why are you so excited about it?”

“Just think,” Irina said.  “If we can get Hawaii to
send us a pilot, and this flies, we could make the trip to Australia in about
ninety minutes!”

I stood there staring at the amazing airplane.  The
last time I’d gone to Australia, it had been a grueling, thirteen-hour flight
from Los Angeles.

“Are you kidding me?”  I asked.

Irina shook her head.

“Russia and China have already reached the speeds needed to
record those types of travel times.  But, only ever with unmanned,
experimental aircraft.  It appears this is well beyond experimental. 
There is a cockpit with controls.  Seats for pilots.  Seats in the
back, as well as provisions for transporting heavy equipment.”

“There’s a whole equipment bay,” Long said, walking up to
stand next to me.  “Easily room for a couple of Bradleys, and there’s
enough seating for an entire platoon.  If she’s right about this thing, that
brings a whole new meaning to
Rapid Deployment Force
.”

He grinned and reached up to touch the aircraft.  The
spot where his hand came in contact also quickly changed to match his skin
color.

“Anyone talked to Hawaii about getting a pilot here?” 
I asked, stepping back and looking down the length of the wedge.

“Thought I’d leave that for you.  Figured you could get
directly through to the old man.”

Lieutenant Sam appeared from around the far side of a large
set of tires supporting the landing gear.  I thought about what he said
for a moment, then nodded.

“So, where’s the comm room in this place?”

We borrowed the cart and headed back into the
facility.  Rachel and Dog stayed with Irina, both of them playing with the
chameleon-like skin covering the plane.

“The Master Chief said he had a conversation with you,” Sam
said as he drove.

I didn’t know him and didn’t know where he might be going
with this, so all I did was nod.  Sam glanced at me when he realized I
wasn’t going to say anything.

“He’s a good man.  Doesn’t need to get his ass in a
crack over fraternizing.”

So, he was worried about his man.  He just went up a
couple of notches in my book.

“Don’t know about the Navy, Lieutenant, but I can’t think of
any Army regs that would prevent him from becoming involved with a civilian,
even if she is someone you rescued.”

He nodded and turned into a new tunnel.

“Navy’s got some unwritten rules.  The result of some
of the guys getting into shit in Iraq and A-stan.”

“Don’t really think any of it matters, now.  How ‘bout
you, Lieutenant?”

“No, sir,” he said.  “I guess you’re right.”

We turned into another tunnel, this one stretching away so
far it faded into a dark, distant point.

“Tell me about the infected woman.”

“Nicole?  We found her in Seattle.  At the
university.  She was trapped in a nuclear physics lab when the alarm
tripped and locked down the building.  Scared the crap out of me when I
first saw her.”

“Me too,” I chuckled.  “How’d she survive?

“A well-stocked staff kitchen.  Maybe the infection
helped.  Maybe not.  But she’s OK, and she’s good for Gonzales. 
Strong as hell if we get in a scrap, and by the way, the females don’t mess
with her.  I’ve seen them come to a hard stop and just stare at her before
running off.”

“No shit?”

“No shit, sir.  Kanger couldn’t explain it, but I’ll
take any edge we can get.”

We made another turn, and the SEAL brought the cart to a
stop next to a door labeled as
Secure Communications
.  Stepping
out, I noticed the keypad next to the door had been removed and dangled from a
bundle of wires.  Two new ones connected different points on a circuit
board, held in place with tiny alligator clips.

“Johnson?”  I asked, gesturing at the lock.

“Yep.  Damn glad he’s here.  All of these doors
are the real deal, and it’s nice not having to blast our way through.”

I nodded and followed him into a large room.  I’m a
little old school and was expecting a more traditional radio-shack setup like
the Canadians had at Alert station.  Instead, everything was sleek
consoles with computer screens and futuristic headsets.  I stood there,
looking around, with no clue where to start.

“Know how to operate it?”

Sam glanced at me and from the expression on his face, I
knew what was coming.

“Make an Army joke and I’ll have Dog shit on your pillow.”

He looked surprised for a beat, a big grin finally spreading
across his face.  Sitting down in front of a console, he began working the
keyboard.  I didn’t even try to figure out what he was doing. 

After only a few seconds, he handed me a headset.  As I
slipped it on I could hear a soft, electronic tone, then a voice I recognized
spoke in my ear.

“Hello, Jessica,” I said.

“Sir!  Good to speak with you!”

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn’t help but
smile.

“You too,” I said.  “What’s the Russian situation?”

“They’ve pretty much got the Pacific sewn up.  Their
navy is severely degraded, but they’re using what they have to keep us bottled
up in Hawaii.  They’ve set up a thousand-mile perimeter around the
islands.  Probably worried about us showing up in Australia and spoiling
their party.”

“Any chance of getting a flight to my location?”  I
asked.

“Don’t see how.  But, the Admiral might have something
up his sleeve.  You trying to get here?”

“Yes,” I said, not wanting to advertise that I wanted to go
on a hunting expedition in Australia.

Jessica lowered her voice.

“Might be better off where you are, sir.”

“Why’s that?”  I asked, concern creasing my forehead.

“Lots of hungry people here,” she said even softer. 
“Food stores are being rationed.  The Admiral has people working with the
local government to get food production ramped up.  It’s starting to look
like photos I've seen of America during World War II.  Gardens are
springing up in everyone’s backyard.  Seeds and fertilizer are worth their
weight in gold.  And don’t even get me started on how we’ve already run
out of soap, razors and toilet paper.”

Despite myself, I started laughing.  Jessica was quiet
for a beat before speaking in a tight voice.

“It’s not funny, sir.  You should smell some of the
people I have to work with.  And the Admiral has already had to relax
grooming standards for male personnel.  It’s going to look like Duck
Dynasty around here before things get better.”

I apologized, but I don’t think she believed I was sincere
as I was still laughing as I said I was sorry.

“Was there anything else you needed other than to amuse
yourself over my hygiene issues?”

Jessica’s words were tight, but I could hear the smirk in
her tone as she spoke.  I chuckled at her response, happy for a little
relief. 

“Actually, I need to speak with the Admiral.  Think you
can transfer me over to his office?”

“Stand by, sir,” she said, all business again.

The line went quiet and stayed that way for some time. 
With a sigh, I plopped into a chair in front of the console.  Sam was
giving me an inquisitive look, and I filled him in on the shortages the people
in Hawaii were dealing with. 

“That’ll ease as soon as we can break the stalemate with the
Russians,” he said.  “Got to be warehouses full of all of that stuff, and
probably plenty of cargo ships rusting at the docks all along the west coast.”

I nodded as Jessica came back on the line.

“Sir, he’s in a briefing at the moment, and his aide refuses
to interrupt.”

“Shit.  OK, can you put me through to his aide?”

“He ordered me not to do that, sir.  I think you scared
him the last time you called.”

She laughed as she said this.  I shook my head and
leaned back in the chair.

“Have him call me ASAP,” I said.  “Tell him I’ve found
something here at Groom Lake that he’s definitely going to want to know about.”

Admiral Packard sat at the end of the large conference table,
staring at the projected image on the far wall of the room.  Commander
Detmer had just completed a briefing he had prepared based on the Athena
Project file that Major Chase had recovered from the Russians at Offutt Air
Force Base.  He was stunned at the information he’d just received.

“Do we have any way to verify this?”  He asked after
several minutes of silence.

“Sir, we have verified that there is what appears to be an
oil production platform at the precise coordinates contained in the
documents.  Additionally, the information that a massive superconducting
supercollider has been constructed beneath the seabed matches the mysterious
ring we discovered with the NSA satellite.  Short of an on-site
inspection, I am of the opinion that we have enough verification to validate
the file.”

Captain Beasley, one of Packard’s senior staffers, spoke up.

“There’s no way this could be a Russian false flag
operation?  Dummy up a top secret file and use the information contained
therein to draw us into the gulf?  That’s damn tight quarters in there if
we had to fight.”

“No, sir,” Detmer answered, shaking his head.  “I do
not believe that to be the case.  We also have the personal diary, taken
from the body of a Spetsnaz officer, which references his unit being sent in
search of records of the Athena Project.”

Beasley nodded but didn’t appear convinced.  Still, he
held his tongue.

“Something’s not right,” Rear Admiral Black groused. 
“If the goddamn Russians didn’t get away with the file, then how did they know
to be in the area and shoot down our reconnaissance flight?  Can you
explain that to me, Commander?”

“No, sir.  All I can do is posit a theory.  The
Russians noticed the tankers we put in the area.  They went to investigate,
and the timing was bad for Lieutenant Commander Vance.”

“I’m still not buying it,” Black said sourly, turning to
face Packard.

“Enough,” Packard held his hand up before things got out of
control.  “I’m convinced there’s something to this.  I’m not sure I’m
buying the whole black hole and warped space-time thing, but there’s no way
this was a plant by the Russians.

“They had no way of knowing the Major’s flight was going to
land in Omaha for fuel.  It wasn’t planned.  The pilot didn’t even
know until an hour before they set down.  No.  I think the file is
genuine.”

He paused and looked around the room.  Saw doubt in the
eyes of many of the assembled officers, but also saw that they were going to
keep any further disagreement to themselves.  He turned his attention back
to Detmer.

“Commander, have you had any luck trying to communicate with
the platform?”

“No, sir.  None.  Comm protocols are one thing
that is not contained in the file.  We don’t even know if they’re capable
of broadcasting or receiving on any of our channels.  Perhaps they are,
but are deliberately remaining EM silent to avoid drawing the Russian’s
attention.”

“Do we have any confirmation that there’s even anyone still
alive on the platform?”  Admiral Black asked.

“No, sir.  We do not.  We are able to confirm
through satellite surveillance that the platform is powered up, as is the
supercollider, but that could be automated systems.  We are maintaining
24-hour watch from orbit, but so far have not seen any signs of activity.”

 “Could the infection have reached them?  Fifty
miles out at sea?”  Packard asked.

“Yes, sir.  Any number of ways.  A transfer of
personnel before the initial outbreak.  Or, we know the virus has jumped
to birds, and the platform is certainly within the range of a variety of
species that inhabit the Texas coast.”

The room fell silent again, each man thinking about the
possibility that the personnel manning the platform were nothing more than
raging infected.  Every head turned when the door suddenly burst open, one
of Packard’s aides charging into the room.

“Sir,” the Lieutenant nearly shouted.  “Commander Vance
is alive!  We just found him!”

“Where?” 

Admiral Black was the first to speak up.

“He’s in the northern portion of the Sea of Cortez,
sir.  Between Baja and mainland Mexico.”

“He’s in the water?”  Packard asked.

“Raft, sir.  He must have punched out and was able to
deploy the survival raft.”

“That damn little puddle isn’t that big.  How far from
land?”

“He’s pretty much in the middle, sir.  The closest land
to him is 30 miles, and the wind is pushing him south.  Keeping him in the
middle of the Sea.”

Admiral Black spun around in his chair and snatched a phone
off a side table.  He barked into it, then listened for a few moments
before slamming it down.

“We’ll never get an SAR flight in there,” he growled. 
“Fuckin Commies got the area sewn up tighter than a frog’s ass.”

“Commander,” Packard said to Detmer.  “How far away is
Major Chase?  He’s at Groom Lake in southern Nevada.”

While Detmer pulled up a map, the Lieutenant cleared his
throat, causing Packard to look at him.

“Something to say, Lieutenant?”

“Sir, Major Chase called for you earlier.  I told him
I’d have you call him back after your briefing concluded.”

Packard glared at the junior officer from beneath his bushy
eyebrows, turning back when Detmer spoke up.

“He’s definitely in the neighborhood, sir.  Four
hundred miles, straight line.  I’m not sure how far with the roads he’d
have to take.”

Packard was quiet for a beat.

“Alright.  This Athena Project can wait.  We’ve
got a man in the water, and we need to get to him.  Commander, get with
Seaman Simmons and have her put together a route for him to the port closest to
Vance’s location, and also have her start looking for a boat the Major can use
once he gets in the area.”

Detmer acknowledged the order, gathered his files and
hustled out of the conference room.

“Lieutenant, get the Major on the line,” Packard said.

The man leaped forward and set to work on the secure phone
resting in the middle of the conference table.  There was a series of
electronic tones, then Major Chase’s voice came over the speaker.