Border Alert- Terrorist Penetration

by Glenn Ball

  Cramming alongside two soldiers in the backseat of the pickup, Captain Valencia poked his Glock into the seat of Scraggly Beard so hard it made the guard squirm. Scraggly sat in the front passenger seat, bound with the same cords he’d used on Susanna and gagged undetectably.

  Clearing his throat, Valencia gave the order: “Let’s capture this cursed lab!” Aguila drove.

  Within minutes they were approaching the guard shack outside the lab.

  The CFE truck had stopped a block back, remaining out of sight. A shadow slipped out of it and slithered swiftly through the corn field arriving at the back of the shack moments after the pickup pulled up in the front.

  As the pickup rolled to a halt Nicolas caught the eyes of the shack guard, ignoring Shadow’s dark form creeping from the back of the shack. With the nod of their hostage the shack guard was convinced to let them pass and opened the gate. A hundred feet up the road a large door rolled upward giving passage at the warehouse’s sunken entrance.

  While the guard was busy with the control panel Shadow snuck up from behind and slit his throat just as the portal peeped open like a waking dragon. By the time the door was in full yawn the pickup was inside.

  Soldiers popped up from the bed of the truck. They made a sweep of the warehouse. Forklifts and rolling ladders sat strangely idle. Cartons of laundry detergent were neatly stacked to the ceiling, hemming in the empty aisles like buildings in a ghost town. Rifles swung this way and that, but there was nobody to be found.

  Shelves marked one, two, three and four caught Agent Aguilar’s attention. He was stopping to investigate when he noticed that Valencia was already shoving Scruffy Beard’s eye to a biometric scanner. Adam was standing to the side of the doorway with a soldier behind him and three soldiers positioned at the ready on the opposite side as the door swished open.

  The captain shoved Scruffy into the opening first. Immediately afterward Soldier One from the opposite side dropped into firing position on one knee, scanning the hallway for combatants. There were none.

  With the all clear, they advanced till they reached lab door number one. Nicolas had joined from the rear. He alertly watched as they followed the previous procedure when opening the door. This one also required Scruffy to key in a code. Nicolas was intrigued by the cocaine prep room beyond. But Captain Valencia was moving on having been joined by Eagle, Lone Wolf, Shadow and Cobra.

  Applying the same technique at each door, Adam and his men advanced down the hallway all the way to door number five. More soldiers followed from behind securing labs two and three and four as they went and acting as a rearguard.

  Adam pushed Scruffy’s face up to the hall door that would lead to lab five, but the scanner did not respond. “What’s the deal here!” Adam demanded.

  “I no have permission here,” Scruffy replied.

  Adam, frustrated at their impasse, felt as if he were being watched. In the corner above them a camera stared down at them.

  ********

  Aguilar stood in a lab that reeked of chemicals with an odor like urine, surrounded by beakers, tubes, stainless steel pots and enormous vats. This was lab number four, the meth lab.

  For him, this was the culmination of years of undercover work. He’d seen too many bodies in the morgue due to overdose. What was it he’d heard; thirty-thousand overdoses yearly? “This should lower that a few thousand,” he commented to nobody listening. Yet this fourth lab was the most impressive.

  Suddenly there was a commotion at the door as Adam entered breathing heavily. He began moving from one table to the next, scrounging desperately for something, grabbing glass containers to study their labels.

  “What on earth is going on?” Nicolas quizzed.

  “The dang door won’t open, and we’re not equipped with any explosives.” Valencia’s words came like a rapid-fire rifle. “We need to make some.”

  “Well you definitely came to the right place.”

  “Here, these will do.” Adam was holding a bottle of bleach and alcohol. Grabbing empty containers from a shelf along the wall he took them to a sink where he carefully began pouring the mixture. He’d filled and capped three bottles and was preparing a fourth when shots broke out in the hallway.

  Soldier One, riddled with bullets, had fallen near the door. His vest had stopped the bullets, but his head was busted open like a pumpkin.

  Soldier Two dashed in, shot in the arm.

  Soldier Three was across the hallway, shielding himself with Scruffy Beard’s body, though Scruffy’s head was hanging lifeless.

  Directing Aguilar to bring two of the completed bombs, Valencia dashed to the door, where he slung a bomb with all his might down the hallway. To his consternation there was no boom, though the gunfire had ceased for a moment.

  Laughter broke out down the hallway.

  Soldier Three across the hall dropped Scruffy’s body on top of Soldier One’s corpse, taking the opportunity of the lull in fire to escape into the lab.

  Another burst of fire missed the escaping soldier.

  Taking the remaining bombs from Nicolas, Adam threw them down the hall as he dove behind Soldier One and Scruffy’s bodies on the floor.

  The enemy combatants snickered at the duds that had rolled under their feet, as they began firing at Valencia.

  The captain aimed his rifle just above the floor at the nearest bottle and gently squeezed the trigger. The bottle spun but did not explode. He’d hit the neck of the bottle.

  Gunfire was raining down on him. He kept his head down for a minute waiting for a lull, but it never came. He looked backwards toward the lab considering a retreat when Nicolas appeared above, extending his arm as he threw another handmade grenade.

  Unbeknownst to Adam, Aguilar had returned to the nearly prepared fourth grenade, added some propane gas then capped it off, this time with a short, thin strip of cloth in the plug which he lit.

  Stay down Nicolas instructed Adam. There was laughter from the combatants again, though the gunfire continued.

  Suddenly there was an explosion, triggering three more explosions almost simultaneously. Adam’s ears felt as if they would burst from the roar and the drastic changes in air pressure as something like wind rushed over him.

  There was smoke and the stench of burning flesh and chemicals hanging in the air. A rhythmic whooshing came from the door as it repeatedly attempted to close, obstructed by two corpses in its path.

  A little woozy, Valencia was on his feet waving Aguilar and his men forward. They stepped over eight corpses near the doorway, all heavily armed. The faint pattering of feet caught Eagle’s ear. Down the hallway a guard had staggered to the next door and pressed his eye to the bio-scanner. The escapee was already stepping through the door as Eagle took aim. The next instant the escapee plopped lifelessly to the floor.

  Another rhythmic whooshing followed as Eagle’s target lay dead in the door’s path. Eagle and Cobra took off to confirm the guard’s death, while Adam and the rest with him checked the pulses of the corpses at their feet.

  By dragging the corpse of Eagle’s target to each of the remaining bio-scanners the entire complex was now open to them.

  ********

  Captain Adam Valencia stood next to a gigantic desk with a landline phone to his ear, looking at monitors plastered over an entire wall. Each monitor displayed sequential scenes of the six different labs and the warehouse that made up the complex. On the desk before him were a laptop and several letter trays stacked with extensive notes, an address book and a planner. They had hit the jackpot, but possibly too late. A red “X” was marked through today’s date on a desk calendar.

  A large cabinet door opened silently three meters behind him. A man began sneaking up on him with a combat knife in hand.

  “Yes General, the hemorrhagic zika virus was designed here in their lab, as well as the chemical weapon called XK23.”

  The stalker placed each foot carefully, giving off no sound.

  “They plan to release the XK23 from air
planes all across the US. It appears today is ‘D’ Day”

  Half a meter behind Valencia the stalker slowly raised his knife to slit Adam’s throat.

  “We need to put a halt…” Valencia stopped in mid-sentence.

  Nicolas had stepped into the room and was raising his gun at Adam. “Duck!” he shouted as he pulled the trigger.

  “What’s happening!” General Hague’s voice rang out over the phone. The receiver lay helplessly on the floor.

  The man with the knife was on top of Valencia. There was a sharp pain in Adam’s neck as the weight of the attacker came down over his head. The knife clanged on the floor.

  Valencia spun, making the corpse of his assailant drop helplessly to the floor. Picking up the receiver he continued with the general.

  “Excuse the interruption sir. As I was saying, we need to put a halt to the mosquito fumigation immediately! Waste Patrol is owned by the terrorists.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Extermination

  Today was the day. The US government had approved the mosquito insecticide contract for Waste Patrol, and Achmed had the honor to be one of seventy pilots across the country to release the XK23 death spray over the infidel cities.

  Squinting as the sun reflected off the windows of a skyscraper into his eyes, Achmed guided his plane toward the Dallas skyline. “The infidels are full of themselves,” he murmured. “Their skyscrapers are nothing but temples to honor their self-serving god of Capitalism. Pure vanity! They cover them with mirrors. At night they light those mirrors up in false splendor.” After dropping all the XK23, it would be a true pleasure to plow the plane into one of those buildings!

  In a few minutes it would be noon. All the planes were to be over their target areas at that precise moment to begin releasing the XK23.

  Achmed could see trees below him giving way to the buildings of a large school. Children charged out of the buildings, plowing through the doors and piling over each other like ants scrambling out of a disturbed nest. He felt like a hawk invading a nest of eggs while the momma bird was away. Licking his lips, he made a pass to confirm his path. Trying to estimate the number of kids below he counted close to two hundred, then had to quit trying. There were too many.

  Passing over a fence that formed the border of the school yard he came over an enormous parking area. There were trees, picnic tables, walking paths and several hundred parked cars. In the center of the industrial park were a number of large office buildings. Sharply dressed men and women filed out the doors, walking with purpose. Time was precious. Far more precious than they imagined. He would be back shortly.

  As the office buildings passed below, he dipped his wing to circle back around. Peering down over the wing he could see an intersection, bumper to bumper traffic on the boulevard, and power lines he would be careful to clear before descending.

  Checking in all directions he assured himself of a safe altitude and gradually descended, rounding out the circle with his eagle eye on the prey. Swooping down over the school grounds he glimpsed boys looking up and pointing. He hit the valve switch to disperse the chemicals.

  There was a hissing as the XK23 sprayed out of its chambers. The death fog engulfed the school grounds. As the misty cloud settled over the children, they began to swing their arms and legs about in a useless attempt to make the merciless stinging go away. Some swatted at their heads and bodies as if fighting off a swarm of bees. With hundreds of children vibrating and gyrating on the playground it looked like a disco.

  Achmed shut the valve. He was over the school buildings, about to fly over the fence that bordered the industrial park. Sneaking a quick glance back he could see a couple of kids in the distance in the throes of choking as if they had tuberculosis. The chemical was eating away at their throats and lungs. Their tongues and all the soft tissue of their mouths were likely blistered already from the flesh-eating poison.

  Turning his head forward he aimed for the most populous area of the industrial park. He had been enjoying the extermination of a new generation of infidels and was a little sad that he would not get to remain to enjoy the show. Nevertheless, the timing was right. There were crowds of people heading toward their cars, and several pockets of smokers hanging out. Hitting the valve switch again the fog descended on them like acid rain.

  Each person the cloud swallowed began to react violently to the pain. There were women doubling over in such agony they appeared to be giving birth. There were men with their hands pressed against their heads like bombs about to explode. Men and women were ripping at their clothes as if vipers were wriggling underneath and biting them. There were people writhing on the ground, others running, some slamming into walls. One man dove into his car window head-first.

  Those who saw the reactions at a distance dashed for their cars, desperately trying to get their windows up before the cloud reached them. Not one made it.

  As he pulled up to pass over one of the buildings Achmed could see onlookers staring out the windows with wide eyes and mouths agape.

  Allah would be honored as never before. Achmed marveled that at this very moment, all over this putrid nation of heathen blasphemers there were families being decimated while they were helplessly separate from each other. By the time this day was over they would recognize the error of their society chasing after money, but it would be too late. Allah would already be basking in this unprecedented offering. And his enemies would never be the same again.

  Putting the industrial park behind him he approached his next target. The streets were bustling with people of all ages as far as his eyes could see. “Perfect!" he muttered. “The pedestrians will be running crazy in all directions, and the drivers won’t be able to see them.” His eyes were ecstatic. He could envision the bedlam that was about to break loose. There would be accidents everywhere, and heads would roll!

  He began to make a small loop, aligning his plane to fly directly over the length of the roadway.

  ********

  As Achmed dipped his wing to circle into the path of descent over the roadway something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. It was an Apache attack helicopter. Turning his head to better grasp the vision, he struggled to understand the distortion in the wing of the Apache. It was warped by heat waves and smoke and seemed to be growing.

  At the instant his mind captured the reality of the moment it was already too late. The missile was growing into the window just beyond his face. An instant of indescribable heat and it was over.

  The plane exploded into thousands of charred fragments, raining down onto the street below.

  ********

  The nation watched in horror as the scene replayed time and again on the late-night news. How had an attack like that been permitted on US soil? They had no idea that the plan had originally included another sixty-nine planes across the nation carrying out a similar attack. Apparently, the attack had been almost completely thwarted as the sixty-nine other planes mysteriously disappeared.

  CHAPTER 49

  Awakenings

  Pedro looked up from his bed in surprise. “Nicolas! I thought I was dead when I saw you in the dungeon. I already knew you were dead cause I’d overheard the guards say I was the last survivor from the trailer.”

  “You nearly were,” Nicolas chuckled. “But I wasn’t dead. I was undercover when you met me, attempting to take down the syndicate that kidnapped you. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you in on the secret.”

  “Don’t be, you saved my life, twice.” Holding up his forefinger he said, “Because of you I was able to escape the trailer; you even guided me to the town nearby.” Then holding up his middle finger to make two he recounted, “Then when I was dying in the dungeon you rescued me.

  “Hey, speaking of the dungeon, where’s Susanna?”

  “She’s right down the hall,” Nicolas indicated with his arm. “Her husband Adam is vigilantly waiting for her to wake up. That’s the big guy that first came to you in the dungeon.”

  “Yeah,
I heard all about him from Susanna. Is she alright?”

  “Yes. She is expected to make a full recovery. She’s been given sedatives and is being fed intravenously like you and could come to any time now.”

  ********

  “Doctor Isho, please report to intensive care immediately.” Adam’s eyelids popped open ever at the ready, but quickly drooped from exhaustion. It had been a long night in the waiting room, the back of his skull was numb from leaning it against the wall.

  To his left a deaf-mute adolescent was pointing to the TV, grunting for his mom to look at the unspeakable images of the attack on Dallas. Adam tried to shut the news out of his mind, to forget the tragedy. He had done all that he could to stop it and had succeeded for the most part. At any rate, all that was over. His Perle, Susanna, was all that mattered at the moment.

  His head fell to one side as all thoughts drifted into sleep. Like a fish hooked and pulled from a river Adam was yanked out of his sleep again. This time it was a baby screaming on his mother’s lap.

  “Sir, you may go in to see your wife now. The sedatives we’ve given her should be wearing off. She should be coming to very soon.” The nurse spoke with a pleasant smile.

  Adam pulled a chair to the head of the bed. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep he’d suffered since his Iraqi mission, but whatever the cause he felt an overwhelming euphoria. The battle with the terrorists was finally over; in spite of Dallas, the nation had been saved. And here lying stretched out before him was his prize.

  Her face was as pearly white as their wedding day. He loved her fair skin. Along with her golden hair it made her look like an angel.

  As a personal thanks to God he found the U2 song on his smart phone that meant so much to him in Iraq.

  ********

  Susanna was reluctant to open her eyes. Her bed and pillow were as soft as a cloud. In the dungeon she had forgotten what a comfortable bed felt like. She had also become accustomed to the aftertaste of corrupting flesh that invaded her palate through her nostrils. That horrid aftertaste was completely gone. Another indication that she had left her corruptible body behind. She was dead.