Thrilled to Death

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Thrilled to Death Page 34

by James Byron Huggins


  He knew the complex would be alive with guards, all of whom he’d have to stealthily evade. And then he’d have to take the most daring risk of all—searching the room of the person he trusted least.

  Hunter stared into the hallway, remembering every turn and hallway and corner and alcove. He moved with a plan, but a plan he could change at any moment. Animal cunning awakened, and he let it gain control.

  Silence ...

  With a wolf’s strides, he loped down the corridor.

  ***

  “They must pay,” Brick growled as he drove the Lincoln through the predawn light. Already, faintly above the river, the sky was a light yellow, the sun rising into a gathering cool breeze that smelled faintly like rain.

  They had made an anonymous call to local police to ensure that they responded to the Institute. It wouldn’t take much for them, looking inside, to see the devastation and decide on a forced entry.

  It would be quite a scene, for certain, with confused uniform officers and then a full-blown building search with canine units and SWAT. All the bodies would be located and identified as well as possible, and then everyone would be looking for Chaney because his prints were all over the spent cartridge cases. It wouldn’t take long for the FBI to close that noose. But by then Chaney would be well on his way to bringing this entire thing to an ending. So whatever interference was thrown up from inside the NSA or even from the Hill would be too damn little and too damn late.

  Chaney was in a bad mood, and he let it ferment inside him, building in rage. He would need it when he landed in Alaska at the last research station. He would put the good Dr. Hamilton on ice until he cracked and told him what he wanted to know.

  Might be complicated, legally, to get away with, but Chaney knew he was already so far out in the badlands that he couldn’t really endanger himself too much more. He just hoped Skull would cover him long enough for the stunt, but there was no guarantee on that, either. He was in the black hills now, but that was all right with him.

  “Brick, I’m going to Alaska.”

  “I’m going with ya.”

  Shaking his head, Chaney glanced out the side window, searching by reflex for a tag. “Brick, this ain’t your fight. We already got dead bodies stretched halfway around the world. You did your time, man. You don’t need to go out on the line again.”

  Brick turned solid. “Let me tell you something, boy. I was a marshal when you was still in junior high school. And you’re all by your lonesome, just in case you ain’t noticed. You think I’d let you go up against these goombahs without another gun?” He barked a laugh, utterly without humor. “The day I’d let you do that is the day I’d strap a grenade to my head and pull the pin.” He shook his head again. “No, sir. We’re in it now. Both of us. Up to our necks. You think I spent all those years keeping your butt alive to see you get it wasted by some godless heathens that tried to kill a little girl like that? Yes, sir. We’re gonna take it to ‘em.”

  Chaney stared, shaking his head. “Like how, exactly?”

  “Well, first, we ain’t taking no commercial flights. I got a buddy of mine that can get us on a military flight—no names, we’ll just tell ‘em we’re gofers on another hop—and then we can scramble a chopper around Anchorage. You figured on a chopper, right?”

  Smiling, Chaney said, “Yeah, I did.”

  “Yeah, I know you did,” the big man replied. “I heard what you told Gina. Stay on the beacon. Yeah, I ain’t forgot.” He hung a hard right. “You still know how to dog one of them things?”

  “Been awhile,” Chaney continued to check for anyone following, but Brick was doing a good job. “They’re not using Hueys anymore. Now it’s Blackhawks.” He thought about it. “I think I can handle it. A chopper is a chopper.”

  “Good enough, then. So we get back to the house, load up what we can carry, get our gear stowed, and we’re airborne by midday. It’s a ten-hour flight, so we land, regroup, arm the chopper and we pay this Dr. Frankenstein a visit. I’ve got my old creds, and you’ve got the documentation for running an investigation on a federal reservation. We’ll get this done before somebody tries to shut us down.” He hesitated. “I tell you one thing, though; we’ll have to work fast. We won’t have more than a day. Maybe two if we’re lucky.”

  “Yeah,” Chaney nodded, more tired now by the moment. He could use a few hours of sleep on a flight. “I figured that much.”

  “But don’t you worry, kid.” Brick finally turned onto his street. “I’m gonna break out something special from the vault. Yes, sir. I got the cure for what ails ‘em.”

  ***

  Hunter was back long before dawn, and awake again, leaving Bobbi Jo sleeping contentedly. Dressing in his freshly cleaned clothes, a black combat shirt procured from the military, he entered the hallway to get some food. He had gotten a good feel for the installation last night.

  Where the others had been crudely designed with cement walls and an almost depression-era air of construction, this one had stainless-steel walls, well-lit corridors and an almost antiseptic atmosphere. It was luxurious compared to the substandard building requirements of the others. Its layout, as far as he had learned, was a series of circles with intersecting lines drawn to the center of something he had not seen. But in essence it resembled a large spider web.

  He assumed the center of the facility was some sort of laboratory, but he had somehow caught the scent of fresh earth somewhere, and suspected that the heart of the station was underground. Possibly several layers beneath the surface. Every door was a metal he had never seen, but seemed impregnable. The hinges were concealed and protected by stainless-steel walls.

  The Ranger contingent was at least seventy men, possibly a hundred. They were exceedingly well armed with heavy weapons—Barretts and single-shot Grizzly .50-caliber rifles—very unusual—and wore a sort of high-tech body armor that Hunter had never seen before. It appeared to be molded plastic, but upon closer observation, even without touching, he could tell it was a space-age blend of ceramic and metal, molded in a unique wraparound protective shell. They wore kneepads and elbow pads and specialized helmets that appeared to have night vision built into a visor that could be lowered, as a pilot lowers a visor on his helmet.

  Despite his fatigue, Hunter was impressed; whoever these guys were, they certainly had the best equipment. And he knew something else; they were expecting something big to go down here, and were well prepared for it.

  Wearing his wool pants, knee-high moccasins and a black BDU shirt, Hunter walked casually through them as they changed shifts. They gave him little attention, but he knew that the easy atmosphere was the result of a well-arranged briefing. If someone without clearance had stumbled into this complex, they would have been arrested before taking three steps. Then in a moment he was inside the commissary, Ghost moving close to his side, and settled down to a relaxed meal while Ghost devoured four large steaks.

  He noticed that anyone entering or leaving the chamber had to run an ID card through a wall-mounted security device. And he was intrigued that all the doors between his chambers and the commissary had been wide open. Yeah, they would let him wander, but only where they allowed him to wander. He thought back on the cat-burglar stunt he had pulled last night and smiled. Even technology could be defeated.

  He heard an approach and knew who it was from the stride. He didn’t turn as he addressed the intruder. “Tight outfit you have here, Maddox. Real secure place.”

  The colonel sat down before him with a nod, a smile. “We do our best, Mr. Hunter. You’re certainly up early.”

  “I don’t need much sleep.”

  “I can see that.” Maddox placed his hands openly on the table, conversational. He smiled. “So, how are your friends?”

  “I don’t know. How are my friends?”

  The colonel opened his eyes a bit wider. “I talked to the night shift and they said that the pr
ofessor is much stronger. And, as you know, Takakura and Taylor are fine. Minor burns. Some cuts and bruises. They’ll live. Wilkenson was rather badly burned in that explosion, but he’ll have a complete recovery, I’m told. They’re flying him to a hospital this afternoon.” Maddox cleared his voice, hesitant. “I suppose you wonder what the status of the operation is?”

  “Haven’t thought about it.”

  Maddox seemed taken aback. “Well ...don’t you know what we’re going to do with you and the team?”

  “Couldn’t care less what you do with your team, Colonel. I’m done with the army and this so-called mission. Soon as the professor is all right, I’m going.”

  “Going where?”

  Hunter stared him in the eye. “I think I’ll do some hunting.”

  Clearly, Maddox wasn’t sure how to respond. Finally he seemed to craft a careful reply. “You, uh, you realize, of course, I could place you under arrest for interfering in a situation of national security.”

  It wasn’t anything Hunter did purposely—it could have been initiated by his sudden stillness—that brought Ghost fully to his feet. But before Hunter could stop him the black wolf had emitted a low, threatening growl that seemed to blacken the atmosphere until it vibrated with the soul of the purest animal viciousness and power. No fear, no pain, no regret, and no hesitation could be known in the rumbling aura that made the entire chamber seem to fade away.

  Maddox paled, lifting a hand. “Now ... now ... I didn’t do anything, Mr. Hunter. I, ah, I was just ... just thinking out loud. And ... and for your own good, I wanted to tell you.”

  Without a glance at Ghost, Hunter said, “Don’t ever threaten me again, Colonel.”

  “B-B-But ... I didn’t!”

  Maddox was trembling now, and Ghost’s low rumbling had faded to an even lower growl that was, incredibly, even more menacing. Hackles had risen on his back, and his canines, more frightening than knives, were out in the open. Hunter knew he would have to restrain him in a moment but he let the wolf make a point: it was enough.

  “Ghost,” Hunter said, a sharp glare.

  Sullenly, the wolf settled back. But his eyes remained fixed on Maddox.

  “Good God,” the colonel whispered, wiping sweat from his brow. He appeared chilled. “That was quite ...quite unnecessary, Mr. Hunter. Quite unnecessary.”

  Hunter had resumed eating.

  “It was you that did it, Maddox. Not me.”

  “But I didn’t do anything!”

  “Well,” Hunter said slowly, “he’s sort of sensitive to someone’s attitude.”

  Maddox took a moment to compose himself. He didn’t look at Ghost as he resumed, but Hunter could too easily read that the colonel was following the wolf intently.

  “Hunter, what I was ...attempting to tell you ... is that this is a matter of national security. When you operated under our supervision, you were restrained by a contract of security. If you operate independently, you won’t have support.”

  “Never did.”

  “But...but if you attempt to hunt this creature alone, then you will surely meet the same fate as your team members who were killed in action. Clearly, no man is a match for it.”

  Hunter took a slow sip of coffee. “My load, Colonel, not yours.” He set down the cup with deliberation as clear as his words. “Whatever I’m gonna do, Colonel, Ghost and I do alone. So you keep your military boys under your command, and leave us the hell alone. I’m gonna stay until the professor is shipped out on a med flight, then I’ll be thanking you for your courtesy.”

  Maddox had composed himself; Hunter knew he was no fool. There was simply something about Ghost’s terrifying presence that chilled the colonel to the core.

  “Hunter,” he began, “I want you to know that I have been honest with you since the beginning of this assignment. Whatever happened out there, it was not my doing. A man in my position has to make hard judgments at times, and sometimes I must send men on missions that I know they will probably not return from. But I have never, nor will I ever, send a man out on a mission that I myself have sabotaged. I have gotten full reports from Takakura and Taylor and Wilkenson. Bobbi Jo refused to be debriefed. I only came over to tell you that, if indeed there was sabotage, I will do everything within my power to discover who it was and bring them to justice.”

  Hunter had always trusted his instincts. So he paused, listening to that inner voice. For a long time he was still. Then he looked up. His face wasn’t pleasant, but his tone was friendly.

  “Colonel,” he said, “I honestly believe that you don’t know what the hell is going on here. I think you’re an honest man. But you’ve been used. And you don’t have the foggiest.”

  Maddox looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  Without intention, Hunter realized that the conversation had turned into an interrogation, with Maddox being the interrogated.

  “Colonel, just what do you think these facilities are used for?”

  “That is classified, Hunter.”

  “Secrets work both ways, Colonel.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it hurts you and helps you. Too many secrets, too many lies, and eventually even the good guys—the guys who keep it all together— don’t know what’s really going on.” He stared. “How often have you visited the laboratory here, Colonel?”

  “I don’t believe that information is within your need-to-know,” Maddox replied.

  “You’ve never seen it,” Hunter said bluntly.

  “And ... if I haven’t? Do you have some point?”

  “Yeah.” Hunter shifted. “My point is they’re doing something here that you don’t know about. Something nobody knows about, really. And, because of all these secrets and need-to-know, you’re helping protect a lie.”

  “A presumption, Hunter.”

  “Have you tried to gain access to the laboratory?”

  “No,” Maddox answered solidly. “I am under specific orders not to interfere in the laboratory.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s classified.”

  Hunter took a moment, pondering. “You know, Colonel,” he began thoughtfully, “I didn’t ask you to come over here and sit with me, and it’s amazing how things happen. Sometimes a chance meeting can change everything. Why don’t you do something for me, Colonel? And for yourself.” Hunter paused to allow time for any objection; it never came. “Why don’t you try and gain access to the laboratory under some pretense. Just ... make it up. Anything at all that would keep you out of trouble. I guarantee you that they won’t let a lieutenant colonel of the United States Army into a facility he is bound by duty to protect with his life. But they will let civilians in there, Colonel.”

  Hunter let that settle.

  “You’re the top man at this facility, Colonel,” he continued. “If anyone has a right inside that facility, it’s you. You don’t work for the damn NSA. You work for the United States Army, and it’s your responsibility to ensure that this entire facility is safe. And that includes the laboratory.”

  A long silence followed.

  “What is your point?” Maddox asked, at last.

  Hunter felt genuine sympathy.

  “My point, Colonel, is that Dr. Hamilton, whatever his real name is, has played you for a fool.”

  Maddox’s face froze.

  “My point,” Hunter continued, knowing he couldn’t hurt the man any more deeply, and not enjoying it at all, “is that Hamilton is performing experiments in there that are illegal and immoral and unethical and against presidential mandates and you are unknowingly aiding him in his crimes. My point, Colonel, is that if you, with the full power of your rank as a colonel in the United States Army, a colonel who is risking his own life to protect this facility, are not allowed into any area of a facility that you are assigned to protect, then someone is attemp
ting to usurp your rank and play you as a fool, sir.”

  Maddox’s face went scarlet with rage. Rising from the table, he casually straightened his coat.

  “We shall speak of this again,” he said coldly.

  Walked off.

  ***

  Hunter didn’t find any portals sealed between the commissary and the infirmary, but every doorway had two uniformed guards with M-16’s at port arms. They didn’t say anything to him and he said nothing to them. He entered the ICU and found the professor sitting on the edge of the bed. Tipler raised excited eyes as Hunter paused, but a quick glance at the heart monitor told him the beat was steady. Tipler gazed at Ghost and smiled. Yet when he looked back at Hunter, his expression instantly altered, hardening until the pale blue eyes burned in a bloodless, exhausted face.

  “We must leave this place, Nathaniel,” he said, heaving a single deep breath. “If we do not, we will be dead by morning.”

  Hunter approached the bed. He grasped the old man’s arm and squeezed it. “Listen, Professor,” he began, “there’s nothing you can tell me that I don’t know. I know more than even you do, at this point.”

  Tipler stared.

  Hesitating, keeping the heart monitor in view from the corner of his eye, Hunter said quietly, “It spoke to me, Professor. It spoke. No matter what it is now, once it was a man. Something ... happened here.”

  Hunter had expected surprise, shock. Instead, Tipler’s mouth closed grimly. He nodded almost imperceptibly. In a moment he gazed at the wall as if he were gazing at the whole facility.

  “Those fools,” he said.

  Relieved that he didn’t have to explain, Hunter leaned farther forward. “You know, just like me, that it’s coming here.” He waited until the professor nodded. He added, “I’m going to try and get you out of here. The rest of the team will fly out with you. They’ll protect you.”

  “And then you will go out to meet it,” Tipler replied.

  Hunter’s face was cast in stone. He said nothing.

  Tipler looked away. “Yes,” he said, a sad nod. “I knew ...and I knew it earlier.” He paused a long while. “You have been compelled your entire life, Nathaniel, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. It is something I have always admired in you. It will always be the greatest, and is the rarest, of all human qualities. But...yes, I knew what you would do. It is no surprise. You needn’t be concerned at my shock. Because there is none.”

 

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