by J C Ryan
“I see,” Deszik responded in a whisper.
“Are there any other of your soldiers who share your views that we should be aware of?” Robert asked.
“No. I am the only one.”
The unexpected sound of the lift coming to a stop caused Robert and Siasha to drop to the floor behind the bench they had been sitting on.
Deszik stood and, followed by Linkola, approached the lift as the doors opened.
“Sir,” the young soldier spoke. “We have searched the entire facility. The Beast technology is not here.”
“What do you mean it isn’t here?” Deszik spoke harshly. “It has to be here somewhere; it couldn’t have just gotten up and walked away!”
“I’m sorry, sir, we’ve searched everywhere.”
“Obviously you haven’t searched where it is or you would have found it,” Deszik snapped. Nodding toward Linkola, he continued as the three of them stepped back into the lift. “Take him back to his quarters and have him held there under guard.”
He saw no sign of Robert or Siasha as the doors closed on the pod room.
Will they spare me or kill me?
CHAPTER 40
Eighth Cycle Site, Grand Canyon, USA
A DARK FIGURE made its way slowly through the canyon, stealthily moving from rock, to bush, to outcropping, making sure to remain hidden from the figures shrouded in the canyon walls. He had no doubt that they were not his men.
Making his way carefully into the side canyon, his enhanced night vision allowed him to find dusty footprints, which he followed up a slope to exactly what he’d hoped to find, the door to the lift that would take him down into the B’ran facility.
With a last look around him to be sure he remained undetected, he turned to trigger the opening to the lift. As he reached out, a body fell on him from the rock above, forcing him to the ground.
Hidden in the side canyon above the entrance to the facility, Jack had silently watched the man approach with the caution of a stalking cat. When the moment came, he was ready and launched himself from his hiding place in the cliff-face onto the man, knocking him to the ground.
Rolling sideways, the man penned his attacker between himself and the rock face, shoving his elbow behind him into Jack’s gut and raising his other arm to remove the arm that was choking him.
He heard the grunt that told him his elbow struck solidly, and in another moment, he was sitting on top of his assailant, twisting his arm behind his back until he heard the snap of breaking bone.
Leaning forward, he ordered the man to be still, just as the rock-face shattered above him. The bullet narrowly missed, scattering dust, dirt, and fragments over him.
A quick shoulder roll placed him behind a rock, and he dragged his opponent in front of him, putting a slight twist on the broken arm for control. “You will help me get to the lift,” he said.
The prisoner shook his head, stepped back and performed a perfect shoulder throw, putting the man down hard, back first, on the ground. Any other man would have been stunned long enough for Jack to secure him. The man wasn’t even fazed, he regained his feet before the impact fully registered, driving his fist into the left of Jack’s jaw.
Stars obscuring his vision, Jack felt his body hit the ground, and a weight dropping on his chest. Jack used his best moves and nearly all his strength to fight the man off, but every attempt was met with a brutal blow from the man’s fists.
Jack was a highly trained Special Forces soldier, an expert at hand-to-hand combat, but he soon realized he was outclassed. Whatever tactic and maneuver he tried; this man blocked with ease. With inhuman strength and lightning-fast movements, he was quickly taking Jack apart.
Finally, near the edge of unconsciousness, the man grabbed Jack and his gun, twisted his broken arm painfully behind his back, and using him as a human shield, shoved him to the lift doors and stepped inside.
Jack found himself pinned against the lift wall his body and head throbbing in pain. He tried to free himself but heard another crack followed immediately with more pain in his arm, and then the blessed blackness of oblivion.
The man hoisted his unconscious attacker over his shoulder, peered carefully out the doors of the elevator, and made his way stealthily into the corridor. Moving silently, he rapidly made his way toward the area where he knew the command center was located.
When he was near the door’s automatic opening trigger radius, he re-adjusted his hold on the man on his shoulder, leveled the gun, and stepped quickly into the sensor area, through the doorway, and into the command center.
* * *
AFTER WORKING THROUGH the rooms and areas his soldiers had already examined, Deszik was forced to agree that The Beast was gone and headed toward the command center to contact Viktor and inform him.
Stepping into the command center, Deszik stopped in his tracks when he faced half a dozen weapons pointed directly at him.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“These men are now following my commands, not yours, Deszik,” said a voice that he thought he would never hear again, from the other side of the room.”
A chair slowly spun around, and Petya came into view.
“Surprised to see me, old friend?” Petya asked with a grin.
“Yes! Of course, I am surprised. I thought you were dead!” Deszik responded.
“I might have believed you, except that the men tell me you tried to pull me out, but I slipped from your hands.”
“You did,” Deszik said. “I tried to save you Petya, don’t you remember?”
“No, I don’t remember, because it never happened. You tried to kill me!”
“It seems to me you’re suffering from memory loss. Can you remember how you fell in that hole in the first place?”
Petya made no reply.
“But if you’ve made up your mind that I tried to kill you, it won’t do me any good to argue with you then, will it?”
“No. It won’t.”
“So, what now? You think I tried to kill you, The Beast is gone, and our mission has failed.”
“Your mission has failed,” Petya corrected. “I think I’ll watch while you try to explain all this to Viktor. But first, tell me what you have found so far.”
“Nothing, other than a couple of scientists and their assistant.”
“And where are they now?”
Sighing, Deszik answered, “One scientist is in his quarters under guard, so is the assistant. The third one, a woman, I had her put into the deep sleep; she was a trouble-maker.”
“I see. Were there any others?”
“I already told you. No.”
“What about people outside in the canyon?”
“What people outside? I am not aware of there being any.” He looked around at his men. “Anyone of you aware of people on the outside?” They were shaking their heads.
“Really? How interesting ...,” Petya said. He nodded to one of the men who bent down and dragged an unconscious man before them. “How do you explain him then? He was waiting for me at the entrance.”
Deszik winced internally as he recognized some of the marks B’ran torture methods left scattered over Jack’s body and was relieved to notice that he was still breathing. “Since I’ve never seen him before, there’s nothing I can explain.”
“You’re lying, Deszik. What are you up to?”
“You were in Viktor’s leadership meeting with me when we received our orders for this mission. You know my orders as well as I do, Petya. I see no point in this discussion.”
Petya paced the room slowly, considering Deszik, finally coming to a stop when he reached the unconscious man.
“We’ll do this my way.” He signaled to a burly looking soldier who approached and picked Jack up effortlessly. “Prepare him,” Petya ordered.
Turning back to Deszik he said, “We don’t know how much of our… interrogation methods these weakling humans can withstand. We thought he was as good as dead when we finished last time. You can
watch and see how much longer he survives.”
“Isn’t that a waste of time? He’s obviously near death as it is.”
“The fact that you think it would be a waste of my time tells me it isn’t. So, all you have to do is tell me who else is here and maybe he can recover.”
* * *
“WE’RE OUT OF time,” Robert said as he watched the scene unfolding in the command center.
“Yes, we have to do something, quickly,” Siasha replied.
“Are all the soldiers in areas where the sound waves will reach them?” Robert asked Roy.
Turning from his research on the Re’an chips, Roy replied, “Yes. We can knock them all out, any time we want.”
“Do it,” Robert said.
“What about Siasha’s nephew?” Roy asked.
Robert spoke through clenched teeth. “His fate will be no different than his comrades. Kill him.” Clearly, Tawndo was in control now.
“No!” Siasha cried, grabbing Robert by the shoulder. “You can’t… we need him.”
“You mean you want him spared for your sister’s sake,” Robert snapped. “It’s him or all of us and your sister.”
“Robert, think! We need him to keep us informed on the escape of the L’gundo from the destruction of the Tunguska site. Tawndo, don’t let your hate for the B’ran blind your judgment.”
“I am not Tawndo!”
Siasha cringed. “I’m sorry… Robert.” In a quieter voice, she added, “We really do need him to help us.”
Robert turned from her abruptly and walked to the edge of the room where he stood quietly with his back to them. After a moment he turned. He was calm again, in control. “You trust him with our lives, Siasha?”
“Yes, I do.”
Robert frowned and looked at the rest of them. “What do the rest of you think?”
Raj spoke first. “She hasn’t steered us wrong yet. She is on our side, Robert.”
The muscles in Robert’s jaw bulged. “Fine. Roy, work your magic and knock them out, but hold back on releasing the nanobots until we’ve removed Siasha’s nephew.”
“You got it!” he said, working the controls at his station. “Sorry Siasha, but your nephew is going to wake up with a bit of a headache,” he added.
They watched the soldiers in the control room collapse to the floor in sync as if in a choreographed act when the high-pitched ultrasonic tone reached their chips rendering them unconscious.
“You better move and get Siasha’s nephew and Jack out of there. I have no idea how long they’ll be knocked out. I’d say we’ve only got a few minutes,” Roy told them. “And someone needs to get Linkola and Korda from their rooms.”
Robert, Raj, Siasha, and JR scrambled out of the room. Less than a minute later, Roy saw Siasha and Raj rushing into the command center. Siasha ran straight to Deszik, grabbed him by his feet, and started dragging him toward the door while Raj went for Jack. JR and Robert sped to Linkola’s and Korda’s rooms.
Within two minutes, JR and Robert had their charges over their shoulders and were heading for the lift. When the doors opened on the command center level, JR grabbed one of Deszik’s feet to help Siasha drag him to the lift. She kept the door open while JR went back to help Raj move Jack inside.
When they stepped back into the control room with the limp bodies of the four unconscious men, Roy said, “Deploying the spyders with the nanites now.”
“How long before they’re dead?” JR asked.
“Just a few minutes.”
Just a slight twitch of their bodies as the nanites activated was the only indication of death throes of the dark cladded Re’an soldiers.
“How long before they regain consciousness,” Siasha asked, concern in her voice as she pointed to the four on the floor.
“I can’t say about Jack. He would not have been impacted by the ultrasonic tone. The rest of them should start to come around soon, minutes maybe,” Roy replied. “They’ll have one hell of a headache though, but otherwise, they should be fine.”
“How long do we have to wait before the nanobots would self-destruct and not be a threat to us?” Robert asked.
“Give it ten more minutes and it’ll be safe,” Roy said.
Ten minutes later, Linkola, Korda, and Deszik were still on the floor curled into a fetal position holding their heads in their hands moaning and groaning in pain. There was not much anyone could do for them.
“Sorry guys,” Roy said. “You’ll just have to tough it out.”
Nevertheless, Siasha and JR tried to comfort them until Rebecca and Max arrived to provide medical assistance. It didn’t even look as if they were aware of anything going on around them.
“It’s time. Let’s get those bodies out of the command center. Get Jack’s team in here and have them help us move the bodies to the Chasm of Marwolaeth. Toss them in it to join Nator,” Robert growled, referring to the B’ran who tried to kill him.
“Chasm of Mar-what?” Raj inquired.
“Marwolaeth,” Siasha answered. “It’s a very deep chasm in one of the hidden tunnels the Liberty Movement used. I’ll show you.”
“Actually,” Roy said, “I’d like Raj to stay here and work with me on this chip research, I think I may be on to something and would like his input.”
“Just one more thing,” JR said. “We must strip those bodies naked, collect all their clothes, body armor, and weapons. We might want to use those against the other horde of Re’an who's invading our country.”
By then, Dennis, Eric, Doug, Rebecca, and the others had arrived.
“Good thinking, JR,” Dennis said. “But I’ve got a strange feeling that the body armor and weapons could be personalized, meaning that they won’t work unless the owner operates them. Maybe they’re activated with a fingerprint or retina scan or God forbid, the chips in their brains, which we’ve just destroyed.”
“Come to think of it,” JR said, “in the movies, they always say the retina can only be read by those scanners for ten to fifteen minutes after death, so we…”
“Relax, JR.” Rebecca smiled. “You should know better than believing all the stuff you see in movies. Eyes can be used for biometric identification for many hours, even days after death. So, unless the Re’an found a way to distinguish between the iris of a dead and live person, we should be okay.”
“Phew!” Doug blew out a sigh of relief. “One less thing to worry about, if it comes down to retina scans.”
“I see,” JR mumbled then started speaking more clearly. “Well, I guess then we go in, strip them of everything, and remove it, but leave the bodies there until Deszik comes around so we can ask him?”
“Agreed,” Dennis replied and turned to Roy and Robert. “Any issues with that?”
“Nope, makes sense to me,” Roy replied, and Robert also agreed.
CHAPTER 41
Alaska Volcano Observatory, Anchorage, Alaska
TWENTY-YEAR-OLD Andrew Smyth bent over a series of reports scattered across his desk at the Alaska Volcano Observatory—AVO—in Anchorage, Alaska. His head moved from side to side as if he was watching a tennis match, moving from one report to the next, comparing statistics, measurements, and satellite photos.
“How many times are you going to go over those reports, kid?”
Andrew looked up frowning slightly. The head seismologist at AVO, Bud Winthrop, had referred to him as ‘kid’ ever since he’d arrived for his internship two months ago. It bothered him. No time like the present.
“Excuse me, sir, my name is Andrew.”
Winthrop grinned. “Sure, Andrew. I’m sorry, didn’t mean any offense. You’re about my son’s age, and I forget sometimes.”
Andrew nodded, accepting the apology.
“So, Andrew, what has piqued your interest in those reports?”
“Well, sir…”
“Hang on there. If I can’t call you ‘kid’, then you have to stop calling me ‘sir’, like I’m your grandfather or something. Call me Bud, like everyone els
e. Okay… Andrew?”
It was Andrew’s turn to grin. “Yes, sir, er, thank you… Bud.”
“Carry on then.”
“Well, Bud, I’m fascinated and concerned by the increase in seismic activity and signs of volcanic activity along the Aleutian Trench and Islands.
“At first it was just some earthquakes along the trench, then some minor activity began at these four volcanoes,” he said, indicating Kanga, Bogoslof, Cleveland, and Pavlof. “And now,” he continued, pointing to an area on the map slightly to the right of the four volcanoes, “there are signs indicating we might see some minor volcanic activity in these six volcanoes: Trident, Snowy, Katmai, Augustine, Redoubt, and Spurr.
“Based on the readings I’m seeing at the first four, and some predictive calculations I’ve made, I’d say both Bogoslof and Cleveland will see major eruptive events within five to six days, followed by Kanaga and Pavlof in another ten to twelve days.”
Winthrop raised his eyebrows. “What calculations are you using?”
“Some of my own predictive algorithms, based on certain current readings and historical data. The mathematics is part of my thesis to see if it is possible to more accurately predict an eruption.”
“Really? That’s very interesting! Let’s see what you’ve got!”
The two sat down, and Andrew took him step-by-step through the information and his calculations. When he finished, Winthrop leaned back in his chair and eyed the young man with renewed respect.
“Young man, sorry… Andrew, what you’ve shown me is incredible. If your calculations prove to be accurate, this could be one of the biggest breakthroughs in the study of volcanoes in a century.”
“What do we do with the information now?”
“We wait and see if your predictions are correct.”
“But don’t we need to let someone know?”
“Not for these volcanoes; they are far enough away from populated areas to not cause problems in the event of an eruption.
“Let’s get your information officially recorded, if it’s correct, we don’t want to miss the chance to be able to prove it.”