Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12 (5 page)

BOOK: Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12
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8

 

Fifteen minutes later we were all gathered in the
cafeteria.  Gonzales and Nicole sat close together, as did Igor and
Irina.  Long and Johnson were both stuffing their faces with something
they’d found in the kitchen, holding Dog’s undivided attention.  Rachel,
Sam and I found some coffee before sitting down near the middle of the
assembled group.

I spoke for a few minutes, relaying the information to
them.  Though Igor’s English was steadily improving, Irina translated for
him.  She spoke softly, making sure he understood all of the details I was
relaying. 

As I wrapped up my monolog, Johnson tossed the last bite of
his food to Dog and leaned back to rest his boots on the table where he was
seated.  Dog swallowed without chewing, then waited a moment to see if
there were any more tidbits coming his way.  With nothing forthcoming, he
made the rounds of the room, bumming ear scratches, then flopped down on the
tile floor at my feet.

“So, what are we waiting for?”  Long asked. 
“Let’s go get Squidward.”

Sam and Gonzales both turned to glare at him over the term
he used to refer to a sailor.

“What?”  He asked innocently when he saw them looking.

“We are,” I said, having had time to think this
through.  “Or at least I am.  But I think some of us should stay here
and see what else is behind door number 3.”

“You think it is a good idea to split up?”  Irina
asked.  “Every time we have, something bad has happened.”

I nodded, acknowledging her comment.

“No disrespect to the Master Chief, but he’s still healing.”

“Sir, I’m good to…”

He stopped when I held a hand up.

“Not open for discussion,” I said firmly.  “Odds are
we’ll end up in the water at some point.  That’s the last thing your
wounds need.  And, I really don’t want to be swimming next to you if one
of them opens up, and the sharks get a whiff of blood.  Besides, someone
that knows how to fight needs to stay behind to protect the rest.”

He stared back at me for a beat, his eyes finally sliding to
Lieutenant Sam.  The SEAL officer nodded his agreement with my decision,
even though it wasn’t necessary. 

“Johnson,” I said, turning to face his table.  “I want
you opening every door and vault you can.  Get an inventory of what else
is here that we could use.  And pay attention to electronics and comm
gear.  We need to find a way to burn through the Russian jamming. 
I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“Copy that, sir,” Johnson said.

“Irina and Nicole, I’d like it if you would assist
him.  Catalog what you find if you can make heads or tails of it.”

The two women exchanged glances before nodding their
agreement.

“Good.  Sam, Rachel, Igor, Long, Dog and I will go
after the pilot.  I’m hoping he’s not injured and can fly that thing we
found.”

Heads nodded all around the room.

“Any questions?”

“What if I open a vault, and there're aliens inside? 
Do I ask them for help?” 

Johnson was grinning as he spoke.  Nicole sighed and
shook her head.

“Ask them who really killed JFK,” Long quipped.

“Might want to make sure they don’t have any anal probes,” I
said, smiling at the look on Johnson’s face.

Everyone looked at him and chuckled.  He looked like he
had a witty reply ready to go, but it was time to get serious.

“OK.  Johnson and Gonzales, I saw a bunch of up-armored
Humvees in one of the hangars.  Get three of them fueled and make sure
there’s plenty of ammo, food and water on board.”

“And a medical kit,” Rachel said. 

I nodded.

“Everyone who’s going, get some chow and put your gear
together.  I want to be on the road in half an hour.  We’ve got 400
miles to cover, and I want to be out of this valley before dark.”

There was silence for a moment, then chairs scraped on the
floor as people began moving.  Johnson and Gonzales hustled out of the
door.  Irina grabbed Nicole’s arm and spoke to her briefly, getting a nod.

“All of you go get ready,” Irina said loud enough for
everyone to hear.  “We will prepare some food.”

I thanked her and headed out into the hall.  Everyone
that was going to be making the trip fell in behind and followed me to the
armory.  We spent a few minutes gathering additional weapons and
ammo.  Igor looked doubtfully at the M4 rifle I handed him, then expertly
broke it down for a quick inspection.

“Not good as Russian,” he grumbled.

I ignored his complaining and headed for the small room where
I’d slept.  Dog tagged along, and I quickly gathered my pack and
vest.  Everything loaded, I returned to the cafeteria. 

Irina and Nicole were carrying steaming plates of microwaved
food out of the kitchen as I walked in and Dog nearly tripped both of them in
his urgency to sniff. 

“He’s not afraid of me!”

Nicole had stopped in the middle of the room, holding two
large plates at shoulder level, out of Dog’s reach.  He sat in front of
her, no more than a foot away, eyes glued to the food and nose twitching.

“He’s a food whore,” I chuckled and told Dog to go lay down.

He completely ignored me and Nicole finally stepped around
him and put the plates down on my table.  Rachel was the next to arrive,
joining me.  The rest of the team trickled in, and we all devoured the
mostly tasteless, freeze-dried mystery that passed itself off as a meal. 
At least it was hot.

Fifteen minutes later, the entire group stood in a large
hangar next to three Hummers that Gonzales and Johnson had pulled out. 
The engines were idling, loud in the cavernous space.

“Orders?  In case you don’t make it back, sir?” 
Johnson asked in a low voice as I tossed my pack in the back of the lead
vehicle.

“Survive.”

I was at a loss for anything more insightful than
that.  He nodded and stepped away to say goodbye to Long.

Rachel, Dog and I climbed into the first Humvee in line
after I had made sure the fuel cans strapped to the rear were full.  Long
and Igor climbed into the second, Lieutenant Sam riding solo in the
third.  I performed a quick radio check to make sure we could communicate
between the vehicles, then shifted into gear and nodded at Johnson.  He
hit a button on the wall, and the pair of massive doors began trundling open,
late afternoon sunshine streaming through the slowly widening gap.

Rachel waved to Irina, and I drove through as soon as it was
wide enough to accommodate the Hummer, glancing in the mirror to make sure Long
and Sam were staying tight.  Turning north on the almost impossibly long
runway, I swerved to run down a pair of males, then accelerated on the smooth
pavement.

“Think we can really save this guy?” 

Rachel squirmed to get comfortable in her seat.  Dog
was stretched across the back seat, panting softly and staring out the side
window.

“Maybe,” I said.  “But we’ve gotta try.  Without a
pilot, we’re pretty much stuck here.”

We were quiet for a moment, the tires humming loudly on the
tarmac.

“That sounded wrong,” I said.  “That’s not why I’m
doing this.  I’d go after him even if he couldn’t fly a plane.”

“I know that.”

Rachel smiled and reached over, placing her hand on my
shoulder.  Dog shuffled around and a moment later thrust his head between
the front seats, knocking Rachel’s hand with his muzzle.  She absently
scratched his ears as I drove.  Well, some things hadn’t changed.

9

 

We followed a well-maintained dirt road that cut through the
desert north of the installation.  Every few miles we would pass a sign
facing southbound traffic that warned drivers they were trespassing on US
Government property and were subject to arrest.  The road followed a track
at the base of a small mountain range and frequently there were electronic
surveillance devices visible on the slope overlooking us.

“What was Johnson talking about?  Aliens?”  Rachel
asked after half an hour.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.  What?”

“Area 51?  You’ve never heard of it?”

I looked at her in surprise.  It was hard to imagine
that there was a person that hadn’t heard at least something about the
place.  It had been a staple in fiction novels and movies for decades.

“Nope,” she shook her head.  “Never had much time for,
or interest in, TV or books.  Kind of hard to waste hours in front of the
boob tube when you’re in medical school.”

“Still…”

“I was a nerd,” Rachel smiled.  “All I did was study,
go to class and go to work.”

“OK,” I said, my voice trailing off.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Bite me.”

Rachel smiled, began laughing and smacked me on the
arm. 

“Of course, I’ve heard of Area 51,” she said.  “What’d
you think?  I lived under a rock?”

I just shook my head, not willing to get sucked any further
in.

We pushed on at a steady fifty miles an hour.  I’d
given up checking the rear-view for Long and Sam.  The Humvee’s tires were
throwing up so much dust that they’d backed way off, and I couldn’t see
them.  Glancing at a cheap, digital clock stuck to the dash, I noted it
had been ten minutes since the last check-in.  I called each of them on
the radio, satisfying myself they were still back there.

“Sir, did you know that both the car and the airplane were actually
invented in Russia?”  Long asked when I called him.

I rolled my eyes and didn’t bother to respond.  Apparently,
he was managing to communicate with Igor.

Twenty minutes later I slowed as we drove across a cattle guard
that protected a narrow, paved highway.  Turning south, I accelerated past
a sign that welcomed us to Rachel, Nevada.

“Good town,” Rachel said, deadpan.

“They’ve probably never heard of Area 51, either.”

“And they’re probably stunningly beautiful with well above
average intelligence.”

“Must be aliens, then.”

That earned me another smack, then I had to focus on my
driving as a small group of males stumbled from behind a building and onto the
highway.  The heavy grill guard bulled them aside, then I was able to push
our speed up to 60.  The wheel vibrated, and the whole vehicle squirmed
side to side.  Not too bad, but it was going to be a damn long 400 miles.

“We aren’t going through there, I hope,” Rachel said,
hooking her thumb at the side of the road.

We had just passed a sign that said Las Vegas was 137
miles. 

“Don’t know how much choice we’re going to have,” I
said.  “This is a pretty desolate area.  Not a lot of roads that
don’t go through Vegas.  I’m planning to stop in the next town to find a
map.”

Rachel nodded, looking around at the bleak landscape. 
The sun was setting, painting the desert with a golden light.  Other than
the asphalt, there wasn’t a single indication of civilization.  It was
going to be a very dark night.

The town was tiny, and we were through it in only a couple
of minutes.  There was nothing ahead or to either side of the road other
than stark, empty desert.  Rachel watched the landscape as the light began
to fade, leaning back in her seat and sighing.

“What?”  I asked, checking in the mirror to make sure
Long and Sam were close.

“It’s so bleak.  Barren.  It’s… I don’t
know.  Spooky?”

“Really?  This feels like home to me.”

“How do you stand it without some green?  Some trees,
or even some bushes and grass?”

“Guess it’s what you’re used to,” I said.  “I grew up
in west Texas, which is just as desolate as this, and Arizona isn’t any
different.  I actually prefer this to a forest.  At least here, you
can see what’s coming for you before it’s in your face.”

Rachel thought about that for a minute, scratching Dog’s
head as she kept looking around.

“You’ve spent a lot of time in forests, though. 
Right?”

I nodded as I answered.

“Yep.  Jungles, actually.  Central America. 
Africa a little bit.  Wherever there was something going on that needed a
little special attention.  And there were a few deserts thrown in for good
measure.  Personally, I’ll take the deserts.  Can’t stand all the
bugs that live in jungles, and I’m not a fan of humidity.”

“What about snakes and scorpions and spiders?  I
thought the desert was full of them?”

“They’re there.  But I wouldn’t say
full

And you learn to look before you step or sit.  Generally, there’s nothing
in the desert that will come after you.  Leave it alone, it’ll leave you
alone.  Just remember rule number one.”

“What’s that?”  She asked, turning to look at me.

“Never put on a pair of boots that you haven’t shaken
out.  Scorpions like tight, dark places, like the inside of a boot.”

“I’ve noticed you do that.  Thought it was just some
kind of ritual, knocking them against something like that.”

“Nope,” I shook my head.  “I was maybe five years old
when I learned that lesson.  Was messing around in my parents’ closet and
thought I’d put on Dad’s boots.  Just stuck my feet in.  Scorpion got
me on my big toe.  That’s one of those mistakes you’ll only ever make once
in your life.”

“How bad are the stings?”

“Bad enough, if you aren’t allergic.  You’ll be in
pretty bad pain for a week.  If you have an allergy, like to bee stings,
it can kill you quick.”

Rachel shuddered and fell silent.  The light was fading
fast, and I lowered the pair of night vision goggles I’d taken from the
armory.  We were going to run dark and hopefully not draw the attention of
any passing Russian planes.  Sure, they’d spot us if they were using a
thermal scanner, but unless they were out patrolling specifically for vehicle
traffic, we’d probably go unnoticed.  At least, that’s what I hoped.

We drove for another half an hour without seeing a single
sign of civilization, other than a lone road sign.  Rachel had settled in and
seemed to be on the verge of drifting off.  Dog had retreated to the rear
seat and was on his back, legs up in the air, snoring loud enough that I was
sure the windows were vibrating.

“Major!”

Long’s voice in my radio earpiece startled me out of the
near hypnotic state I was in from driving.

“Go,” I answered.

“You got a civilian radio in your vehicle?”

I glanced around but didn’t spot one.  They weren’t
standard equipment in military vehicles, but a lot of the guys would strap a
cheap boom-box in for a little entertainment on long patrols.

“Negative.  What’s up?”

“You should hear this.”

“Copy.  We’re stopping.”

I lightly touched the brakes and slowed the Humvee, staying
in the middle of the road.  Rachel sat up straight and looked around.

“What’s going on?”

“Long’s got something on a civilian radio frequency he wants
me to hear.”

Dog woke up and scrambled to his feet as the vehicle came to
a stop.  I left the engine running and looked all around before opening
the door and stepping out, my rifle in my hands.  Rachel and Dog followed
a moment later.

Long had stopped within a couple of feet of my back bumper,
Sam tight behind him.  The SEAL officer stepped out when he saw me,
scanned the area behind us, then walked forward to meet at the middle vehicle.

The armored window was slid open, and I could hear a voice
as I approached Long’s Hummer.  He and Igor stayed inside, staring at a
small radio that was rubber banded to a grab bar.  The voice was slightly
static covered, but clear enough to tell it was an English speaking woman.

“… will repeat.”

I only heard those two words, then there was nothing but
static.

“What was that?”  I asked.

Long held up a finger to tell me to hang on, keeping his
attention focused on the radio.  A few seconds later, the voice returned.

“We have moved to sector five.  Sectors one, three,
four and six are overrun.  Charlie and Delta are in sector two.  All
units report at designated times.  This message will repeat.”

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