“There’s a lot more out there. We need to move,” he announced, his voice sounded distant and hollow after the explosion. “It’s possible that the hydrostatic shock of the bullet broke his leg. The bleeding is under control so I don’t think the femoral artery was hit or he’d be dead already. We can’t stay here and that grenade’s not going to stop them for long,” he added.
“You’re going to hate this but we got to move,” Durst said as he pulled Stone to his feet and slung one arm over his shoulder.
“Ah, fuck! I already hate this!”Stone said as he was pulled to his feet.
With Mecceloni leading, they hobbled towards the far end of the alley as Stone muttered curses.
***
“Where are they?” Allison Drewett asked St. John as they waited in the Tahoe outside of Clovis.
The windows of the SUV were rolled down and the engine was off meaning no air conditioning. Drewett pulled the top of her tactical vest away and fanned air inside. Sitting in a black vehicle in the middle of a desert wasn’t the most comfortable situation she had been in.
“Why did Sharon and Cassie get to go and I had to stay here?” she asked turning to look at St. John.
“Sharon and Cassie know the city.” St. John said, calmly adjusting the strap to the HK MP5 that hung across one shoulder. “And they can take care of themselves,” he added. “You volunteered to stay behind, remember?”
He moved the submachine gun until the barrel was pointing out his window and the grip rested naturally in his hand before he went back to scanning the mirrors and out the windows.
Jessica Burnett, sitting in the middle of the back seat, looked down at the M4 on her lap. She was glad for the refresher course Mecceloni had set up. Like riding a bike, it all came back when he put her on the impromptu firing range just outside the perimeter fence of the Safeguard compound. Her musings were interrupted by a boom that echoed across the landscape.
“Holy shit,” Drewett muttered as she pulled the magazine from her rifle, visually inspected it, smacked it against her thigh to seat the rounds then inserted it back into her weapon.
***
The alley turned to the left, like a capital L and they were on the long part of it. Mecceloni kept moving back and forth letting Stone and Durst get ahead while he checked behind then jogging ahead to sweep the front. As they made the turn, the other entrance was clear and parked at the curb was the Tahoe.
“Wait here, I’ll check it out,” Mecceloni directed. He cautiously moved forward checking corners, doorways, rooftops and behind dumpsters until he reached the alley entrance.
Easing out to look in both directions he saw no infected. It was as if this street was untouched. No movement, no bodies, no sound. He motioned to Durst then stepped to the driver’s side and looked in. The interior was empty, no one was hiding inside. He opened the driver’s side passenger door as Durst approached and helped slide Stone in. Durst climbed in after his friend while Mecceloni checked the street one more time before he got behind the wheel. The keys were in the ignition.
I should have bought a lottery ticket, he mused.
The SUV started up with no hesitation. Mecceloni looked at the gauges for any indication that there was a problem. The only issue was the fuel; it was less than half, more than enough to get back to Safeguard, if they didn’t make any side trips. Dropping the truck into gear, he hung a tire squealing U-turn and headed back towards the main entrance of Clovis.
Unseen by the SUV’s passengers, a heavily armed, bearded figure in faded USAF ABU’s stepped out of the shadow of a doorway. He watched the SUV until it disappeared around a corner, shaking his head in resignation knowing he should have taken the keys with him. At his waist, an engineer’s demolition bag trailed wire back into the depths of the building.
***
In the market parking area, Sharon and Cassie heard the shooting and then the grenade. Cassie edged up to peek over the dash but all she saw was the smoke and dust cloud from the grenade explosion.
“See anything?” Sharon asked from the driver’s side footwell.
“Dust and dirt nothing else,” Cassie replied.
“We should go find out what’s happening,” Sharon stated adjusting her position so she could see out the driver’s side window.
“John said to stay here until they came back,” Cassie said.
“He told you that, not me,” Sharon commented as she sat up behind the wheel. “That’s my brother out there; asshole that he may be, he’s still family,” she said as she started the engine of the CUCV and backed out of the parking space.
Spinning the wheel and putting her foot down, the surplus SUV shot out of the parking area leaving a trail of rubber in its wake.
***
Mecceloni turned the corner and slowed to a stop. The street ahead was full of infected. He quickly looked around for an alternative route, mentally cursing himself for not having a street map of the area. He dropped the transmission into low gear and revved the engine.
“What are you doing?” Durst asked from the back seat before he looked out the front window.
“You’re fucking insane!”
“No, not insane, just mentally unrestricted,” Mecceloni said, shifting into neutral, dropping the transmission into 4 wheel drive then shifted into drive, planting his foot to the floor.
Durst was pushed back as the Tahoe leapt forward with a surge of acceleration. The heavy duty suspension and grill guard plowed into the front of the infected horde, tossing aside and knocking over the first ranks before moving into the densely packed mass.
The Tahoe bounced like it was on an undead, gore splattered Baja off-road course as it ran over the infected that it knocked down. Mecceloni kept his foot down and steered for the smallest concentrations, plowing through and spraying blood, body parts and rotted flesh all over the truck, street and buildings. Paint the town red was a thought that came to his mind. He heard weapons fire over the scream of the engine and thud of bodies impacting. The Tahoe broke free of the swarm, dragging dismembered portions of the infected from its undercarriage and grill.
He turned on the wipers to clear the blood and gore from the windows but all that did was smear it in forcing him to slow down. Through the smeared windshield, he caught a glimpse of a tan vehicle.
The CUCV.
Someone was leaning out the passenger side window firing a shotgun into the infected before ducking back inside. The military surplus SUV skidded over a couple of infected, jostling the occupants before executing a wild, tire smoking bootlegger turn and leading the Tahoe out of the city.
***
Mecceloni followed the surplus SUV out the main gates of Clovis while Durst checked the bandages on Stone’s leg. Once they passed the open gates of Clovis and hit the highway, the infected fell behind and were soon lost in the rearview mirror. The front of the Tahoe was caked in blood and gore. The grill guard had body parts inserted into it. A detached eye was stuck under one of the wiper blades, dangling by the optical nerve while a severed arm with attached hand, thrown up and wedged into the overhead cargo roof rack, waved in the slipstream. The sturdy SUV looked like it had been through a carwash sponsored by a slaughterhouse.
From the warning indicators flashing or lit steady on the dash, Mecceloni knew that it was only a matter of time before there was a complete mechanical malfunction. With a noticeable vibration in the front end when he tried to accelerate above 50 mph forcing him to stiff arm the wheel and fight to keep control, he couldn’t keep up with the CUCV. Several miles outside of Clovis he began flashing his lights at the CUCV as he lost power, then pulled over amid a cloud of steam and a gush of engine fluids.
The Tahoe shuddered once, as the engine stuttered then died as it rolled to a stop. Multi-colored fluids leaking from it like a gravely wounded soldier.
Brake lights flashed from the lead vehicle as the rear rose up then the white back-up lights came on as it retraced its path before skidding to a stop next to the disabled Tahoe. Mecc
eloni stepped out and quickly moved to the Tahoe’s rear passenger door, yanking it open.
He grabbed Stone’s vest and hauled him towards the door as the passenger side door of the CUCV opened and Cassie stepped out. Stone was semi-conscious from shock and blood loss.
“What happened?” she asked seeing Stone’s blood soaked pants.
“He’s been shot and needs medical treatment,” Mecceloni explained as Durst grabbed Stone’s legs and climbed out of the dead SUV. Cassie leaned in and pushed the passenger seat forward then stepped back as the two men struggled to get their injured friend into the back seat. Sharon quickly looked at them over her shoulder, her eyes wide with combined fear and adrenaline as she divided her attention between the driver’s side mirror and the road ahead, one foot on the gas and one on the brake. The CUCV’s engine screamed in neutral as the vehicle vibrated and trembled with restrained power.
Durst climbed inside and pulled the semi-conscious Stone all the way into the back seat, cradling his friend as Mecceloni crawled in. Cassie slid the seat back then jumped in slamming the door.
“Go!” she yelled as Sharon dropped the surplus SUV in gear and put her foot down.
The CUCV shuddered sideways as the deep lug tires screamed in protest against the asphalt before gripping the surface and leaving twin rubber marks and a cloud of foul smelling smoke behind. The occupants roared by the turn off they had taken just a few hours earlier, Sharon laying on the horn as they rocketed past St. John and the others.
“What the fuck?” Drewett muttered as the tan comet shot past on the highway.
“That’s them,” Woody stated as he started up the other Tahoe and slowly drove back to the highway. By the time they reached the pavement, the CUCV was just a dot in the distance.
“Who lit a fire under their ass?” Burnett asked from the back seat as Woody powered the windows up and accelerated.
“Sharon,” Cassie said over the roar of the engine. “You can slow down now.” She reached over and placed her hand on the other woman’s shoulder and gave her a shake. “Sharon, slow down,” she repeated.
Sharon blinked rapidly then looked down at the speedometer; the needle was pegged to its stop, the engine screaming and the scenery rushing by too fast to recognize anything. She took a deep breath then let it out as she eased her foot off the accelerator.
The CUCV slowed to a more sensible speed. A few minutes later the black Tahoe with St. John, Drewett and Burnett appeared in their mirrors.
***
Chapter 22
Eielson Air Force Base, Alaska
The combined SOF strike team was housed in one of the few empty buildings. Eielson was one of the installations that the dependents and assets from JBLM had been flown to so space was at a premium. They had been waiting for the weather to clear so they could proceed with their mission. The men were ready to go and a bundle of restrained energy on the inside. They kept their features schooled and their actions and demeanor calm. Since arriving at Eielson, they had explored the entire base, met most the personnel and were introduced to the support element of the operation.
Captain Samuel Harris of the 75th Rangers was the commanding officer of a short company of Rangers that had been in Alaska for winter training. When the outbreak occurred, they had been anxious to head back down to the lower 48 and were preparing their gear for that trip when word from command had ordered them to remain in place.
In the months following as fewer and fewer transmissions were received then nothing but the occasional message from Site R, the Rangers had grown restless. Infection hadn’t happened in Alaska because no one wanted to spoil the natural beauty, or because of the cold in the winter, or whatever the current rumor was, so they had no mission. Relegated to supporting the air base as a reaction force, they were more than eager to support the SEALs and Army Special Forces.
Willis, O’Toole, Harris and their combined elements were inside the secure briefing room located in the basement of the administration building. The red light above the door indicated the room was in use with no access to unauthorized personnel. Inside, a colonel from Air Force Intelligence with no name tape on his ABUs was conducting the briefing.
When the briefing started and one of the first sentences contained the phrase ‘this isn’t going to be easy’, everyone in the room knew that whatever illusion they had previously had about the mission had just dissolved.
“Gentlemen, as you may not know, there has been a breach in CONPLANS. That is why this operation has been compartmentalized with only small sections given to the parties directly involved.” He paused and looked at the mixture of expressions.
“JCS and NCA played this pretty close to the vest due to the information I’m about to tell you.”
Colonel No-Name opened his briefing folder. Behind him, a large screen lowered down and an image flashed on it.
“Satellite imagery has confirmed the existence of a facility deep in the Brooks Mountain Range. This may seem inconsequential to some but SIGINT has verified that said facility is responsible for the breach of CONPLANS which generated a B-52 out of the Dakotas that destroyed the survivors of Joint Base Lewis/McChord at their cantonment area in Olympia, Washington.”
“Sonovabitch,” Gorman muttered quietly.
“This same facility, manned by parties unknown, is also responsible for the attack against Task Force Paladin in that same state.” The officer turned the page in his folder. “But, the operation that you’ve all been assembled for is not one of retaliation based on those actions. There is strong evidence that whoever is behind those attacks is also the same party responsible for the global biological outbreak resulting in this current situation.”
The room erupted with murmurs and conversation.
“Gentlemen, please,” the officer said holding up his hands up for quiet. “I know this is a lot to take in but please keep your questions and comments for the end.” He looked out at the hard men and saw the looks of anger change into cold calculation. He suppressed a shudder just thinking of what would happen to their target.
“Weather permitting, you will depart tomorrow at 0600. There’s a storm front coming in later in the day and we want you boys to be well on your way before it hits.” He picked up a remote and turned from the podium to face the screen. The picture that appeared was an enhanced satellite image of the facility.
“This is your target. You will be coming in from the west at this point,” he used a laser pointer to indicate the orientation of the slide. “Infiltration will be by airborne drop at the juncture of these two runways. A platoon of Rangers will land here and proceed to this point securing all buildings along the way. Captain Harris and the rest of the Rangers will land here. The remaining elements will land here and secure this area including the motor pool and these ancillary buildings.” He used the laser pointer option on the remote to indicate the locations and objectives of each group. “Once those objectives are clear and in our control, a Ranger element will provide security and overwatch while the rest of the Rangers proceed to these locations securing the power station and the fueling areas. From there, they will establish a perimeter and provide support for the remaining special operations elements as those elements move inside the complex and begin a sweep and clear level by level.” Nameless turned back to the crowd.
“That may be the easy part. We have no clear count on the number of hostiles you may encounter but suffice it to say that you will be facing a numerically superior presence. We need hard data gentlemen, so try to go easy on any computers, servers, or data storage equipment you may find. We also need prisoners. If you find a high value target we’d like to talk to them, so again, try to keep him or her alive long enough for us to get some useful information out of them.” He closed his file and turned off the projector.
“I’ll take questions now,” he said with a nod.
“Sir,” O’Toole said standing up. “What are the other options in the event we aren’t able to do an airborne insertion? You sa
id a weather front is coming in and that might not be possible.”
“We have our weather people working on it and will update you if anything changes. Worse case, we improvise,” Nameless said with a weak grin. O’Toole sat back down.
“Is there an estimate on how many hostile forces are at the target location?” Willis asked.
“Low end estimates put the hostiles at 1000, high end at 2000,” the officer replied causing another stir of conversation to sweep the room.
“Do we know how they’re armed?” Willis asked a follow-up question.
“Rifles, light weapons, no evidence of artillery or indirect fire weapons or any kind of air defense or air support,” the officer responded.
There was another wave of conversation in the room but no more questions directed towards the colonel.
“With no further questions,” he glanced down at his watch. “You have the next ten hours to study and review everything we discussed here today. Everyone has a packet, good luck and good hunting,” the anonymous Colonel said with the room coming to attention as he left.
***
Chapter 23
Safeguard, New Mexico
Jessica Burnett stepped out of the room they had converted to a medical area. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed and head down. Inside, John Stone was recovering from the injury he had received while in the city of Clovis. He was exceptionally lucky that the bullet hadn’t fragmented on impact or nicked an artery. He had lost a lot of blood that had depleted the store of IV bags in both Burnett’s and Drewett’s medical supplies.
Up From the Depths: Book 4 Movement to Contact Page 18