He was tired. So very tired. Maybe he would close his eyes and rest. Just for a few minutes. A quick little nap. Beeks closed his eyes and immediately fell into a deep sleep.
The tension in the room was nearly unbearable as President Vickers scanned the rest of the room. Captain Flores had cleared the room of all nonessential personnel. And now she was glad only a select handful could see how nervous she was.
General Weindahl politely cleared his throat. “Madam President,” he said. “We're almost ready to begin Operation Flashpoint.”
“How are we seeing this?” the president asked.
“We have drones providing live stream footage.”
“Are they in danger of getting spotted by the Reapers?” Vickers asked.
“Negative, ma'am,” Weindahl said. “They're maintaining an aerial patrol out at approximately 10,000 feet on the outskirts of the city.”
“Is that high enough to avoid being affected by the bombing?”
“We believe so.”
“Where are the monsters?”
“The majority of them are still inside the city limits. There’s been no intel to suggest otherwise.”
“Even so, I’d like you to move one of the drones to capture footage of any creatures trying to flee the bombings.”
“I'm not sure that's a good idea, ma'am,” Weindahl said. “We may miss the event, or it could put the drone in harm’s way. Also, the lower the altitude the more risk we would be taking of being spotted by the Reapers. As these things have demonstrated, we can’t assume they’re stupid.”
“No, we cannot.” Vickers sighed. “Can you at least turn one of the drones to a different view? I want visual confirmation that these bastards are dying from this bombing.”
“Make it so,” Weindahl ordered.
“One moment, Madam President,” the technician answered. There was a series of clacking noises as she typed on the keyboard. A moment later, one of the video streams changed to a wide-angle view.
“Take a look,” Flores said. “Upper right corner of the feed. There appears to be several monsters.”
Reapers. Why don’t you call them what everybody else does? Vickers thought to herself. These things were hardly something that would jump out of a closet in the middle of the night and terrorize young children.
“Can you zoom in after the detonation?” Vickers asked.
“Of course.”
“Madam President, it's probably best if you stand back here with me and watch this,” Flores suggested.
The president flashed a fishy-eyed look at the captain, who immediately began to verbally backpedal.
“What I mean, ma'am, is you can see all the displays from this spot in the room better.”
President Vickers chose to say nothing and took her time walking over to the spot the captain had indicated next to him.
There was a bright flash, and a loud roar came through the speakers. Vickers glanced at the screens and saw that huge, billowing clouds of flame and smoke.
“Where is that?” Vickers asked.
“Philadelphia. Ma'am, we're getting ready to start the New York bombings. Boston won't be hit for another two minutes.”
“I’m surprised you don't have the timing down better,” she quipped.
“Under normal circumstances, we would,” Weindahl said. “Unfortunately, we're working with bare bones equipment, and some of our personnel are a bit green with these types of operations.”
“They won’t be, after today,” Vickers said as she continued to watch the screens. A moment later, the images started to become clearer as the dust began to settle.
Vickers squinted as she tried to focus her eyes on the video feed in the upper right corner of the display.
“There’s something moving there,” she said. Can you zoom in on it?”
“Yes, Madam President,” the technician said. “One minute.”
The camera display changed as the drone shifted position and began to zoom in. As the image began to get sharper in focus, Vickers saw two lone Reapers staggering in the aftermath. One was still on fire, and Vickers watched as it dropped to the ground. The creature began to instinctively roll back and forth, in an attempt to extinguish the flames. She looked at the second Reaper. It appeared to be struggling to stay on its feet. There were pieces of fur and flesh missing from its torso and leg. The Reaper took two more steps and then collapsed.
“You see that?” Flores yelled. “It worked. It actually worked.”
A cheer began to go across the room. Operation Flashpoint had landed the first strike, and it had dealt a serious blow to the Reaper armies.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Beeks awoke with a start and looked around, unsure of how long he’d been unconscious. He remembered being in his throne, and now he was coming to on the floor again.
I overdid it with transforming the pilot and contacting all of my troops, he thought.
Beeks struggled to his throne and sat down. As he did, his arms started to feel like someone was poking him with a small needle. The sensation spread to his torso, then his legs. A moment later he was hit with a deluge of pain as thousands of his children screamed out in agony.
“It burns, master, it burns. Make it stop,” a voice screamed in his head.
“Get underground now,” he mentally shouted again. Some of his minions moved to escape the bombings, and he felt their pain start to diminish. But too many of them didn’t, and he felt their pain and their agony like it was his own.
Vickers quietly continued to watch the displays. As she did, one of the Reapers slowly began to rise. It appeared to have once been a middle-aged man. There were visibly graphic wounds all across its body. She could see a number of places where the creature’s body hair had been burned off.
As she watched the live feed, the Reaper’s wounds began to heal. The skin began to smooth out, and new hair began to form where it had previously been lost.
A feeling of panic swept over Vickers as she watched the Reaper slowly stand upright and reach toward the sky. The creature let out a loud roar and slammed its fist against its chest. A second roar sounded out nearby. Then a third.
Vickers’s eyes focused on the other downed Reaper. The creature had managed to snuff out the flames that had been consuming its body. Now it was back on its feet again. The burns were quickly closing up, and the Reaper let out a roar which echoed throughout the conference room.
“Cancel the other bombings,” Vickers said quietly.
“But ma'am, they still have a chance of succeeding,” Weindahl protested. “We have to give it a try.”
“We did,” Vickers countered. “We need to face the facts. Operation Flashpoint has failed.”
“Madam President, I understand what you’re saying, but there’s still a chance the bombings can eliminate a significant number of Reapers,” Flores pleaded. “We need to try.”
“I just watched two Reapers that were burned badly heal their injuries and continue acting like nothing was wrong. Scrub the rest of the mission. That's an order.”
“Yes, Madam President.” Weindahl sighed. He picked up the phone and said, “Mission aborted. Operation Flashpoint is aborted. All planes are to head to their designated operating bases immediately.”
Vickers waited until the general hung up the phone before saying, “This just got a lot more complicated.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“We just learned the Reapers can’t be killed by fire. That just took limited our options even more.”
Every nerve in his body felt it was on fire. Beeks looked at his arms, but there was nothing physically wrong with them. Another wave of agony swept over him, and Beeks screamed out, feeling pain that wasn't his. His children, he was feeling their pain, and it was overwhelming to feel all of them at once. His hands grabbed the arms of his throne, clutching them as he tried to fight being overwhelmed by the pain.
Then, as quickly as it started, it was over. Beeks reached out slowly and ch
ecked on each of his children to see who was injured and who was still alive. As his soldiers reported in, Beeks felt his spirits rise. The humans’ bold plan had failed. Now it was time for retribution. He couldn’t wait to make them pay for what they had done.
Chapter Fifty-Four
The three vehicles came to a stop in the marina parking lot. Foster and the rest of his group stepped outside and gathered near the entrance. A pair of chain-link fence doors were closed. There was a chain thread through the handles with a padlock clipped in place.
“We made it,” Lizzy said. “We finally made it.”
“Yeah, but we need to keep moving,” Walker said. “We’re sitting ducks right now.”
“Nick, you want to take overwatch?” Foster asked. “I’ll help Gregory and Sams with the gates.”
Walker nodded once. He brought his rifle up and began scanning the surrounding areas for any potential threats.
“What do you want the rest of us to do?” Charles asked.
“Good question,” Foster said. “If the rest of you wouldn’t mind grabbing the rest of the gear from the vehicles, then we should be able to load up the boat a lot faster.”
Gregory motioned quickly. “Sams, hand me the bolt cutters,” he said.
Sams carefully sat down his backpack and unzipped it. He pulled out the small pair of bolt cutters and passed them over to Gregory. “Good thing you had these things in your basement.”
Foster watched as Gregory man-sized up the lock, opened the handles of the bolt cutters, and placed the cutting edge around the loop of the keylock. Gregory pushed the handles together, breaking the lock with a loud snap. The man pulled the lock off and instinctively tossed it aside. The metal lock clattered loudly against the ground. Gregory began to pull the looped chain out. As he did go, a loud howl sounded out, and he dropped the chain in surprise.
“That sounded close,” Foster said.
“Too close,” Sams replied. He brought his gun up.
“Everybody move through the fence,” Foster said. “Keep your eyes peeled for any incoming Reapers. Randy, how soon can you have the boat ready to go?”
“Not long. I need a few minutes to get the boat prepped and ready to launch,” Randy said. “I could use some help carrying these fuel canisters.”
“Is what we’re carrying onto the boat going to be enough fuel?” Walker asked.
“Not even close,” Foster said.
“What about draining fuel out of the vehicles?” Sams asked. “If we dump this fuel into the boat and then we can refill the containers from our vehicles.”
“As long as we don’t draw any unwanted attention, it’s still a viable option. But we need to get our current fuel canisters onto the boat as quickly as possible.”
“I’ll help,” Lauren said. “I can get my father-in-law situated onto the boat, too.”
“Sounds great,” Foster said. “The rest of us will make sure we secure this location.”
“What about our families?” Gregory asked.
“Good question,” Foster answered. “When Randy is ready to launch, he’ll start the boat. Once we hear that, we’ll send your families, Amanda, and Lizzy to the boat. Walker, Sams, and I will work our way to you and make sure no hostiles get to the boat while we’re still docked.”
“Sounds like a decent plan,” Randy said. “Come on, Dad, let’s get this shit on the road.”
“You mean, on the water,” Randall corrected. “You worry about carrying that fuel. I’ll be fine getting to the boat.”
“But your leg-” Randy said.
“Ain’t broken,” Randall interrupted. “The day I can’t walk on my own is when I’ll tell you to take me behind the shed and shoot me. Now, get a move on, you’re holding everybody up.”
Foster watched as Randy grabbed two fuel cans and begin walking toward his boat. Lauren followed suit, and her father-in-law followed a few steps behind.
“Incoming,” Sams called out. “Two o'clock.”
“Damn it, I knew it was too good to be true,” Walker grumbled. He moved to the opposite of the walkway.
“Scrap refilling the canisters,” Foster called out. “We need to get the boat ready for launch, pronto.” He rushed over, picked up the loose chair, and began looping back in place. Once the chain was back in place, he pulled out a pair of zip ties and used them to bind the ends of the chain together. It wouldn’t be as secure as the previous metal lock had been, but it might buy them a few more minutes to make their escape.
Foster looked at three Reapers bounding toward them. He brought his rifle up and began to sight on the incoming hostiles.
“Wait until they're close to fire,” Sams said. “We just need to buy time until the boat is ready to go.”
“Copy that,” Walker answered. “Head shots only. Conserve your ammo, people.”
“Charles,” Randy called from the edge of the boat. “Why don’t you come with us now?”
“Soon,” Charles answered. “I need to help them keep these things from getting to the boat.”
Randy nodded once, then stepped onto the boat and disappeared from sight. A moment later, Lauren stepped onto the boat, set her fuel barrels down, and then turned to help her father-in-law climb aboard.
Foster turned his attention toward the incoming Reapers. It had been less than a minute, but there were now more than a dozen of the creatures heading toward them. He sighted on the closest one and began shooting.
Suddenly, a loud noise sounded out behind him, and Foster felt the ground rush up toward his face. He managed to turn his head at the last minute and avoided slamming his nose and teeth into the macadam. He felt an immediate ringing in his ears. Remembering where he was, Foster forced himself up onto a knee and brought his rifle back into a shooting position, carefully aiming between spaces in the chain-link fencing. The Reapers were still coming toward his group, and Foster sighted on the nearest pair and opened fire. He walked the shots up across their charging bodies, watching the trail of bullets move from their torso up into their neck and face. The Reapers’ bodies staggered from the onslaught, until the last couple of bullets delivered the fatal blows.
Foster saw the other monsters begin to drop as his group mates rejoined the fight. He risked a glance over his shoulder, and his blood immediately went cold.
The boat was gone. In its place, there was nothing but flames and pieces of wood falling out of the sky.
“Mom!” Emily screamed out. The teenager rushed toward the still burning debris.
“Emily, stop,” Gregory yelled. He rushed after his niece, with his son following a few steps later.
Foster looked at Charles and saw the man looked completely shell-shocked. In an instant, he had lost several family members, including his daughter.
“Multiple contacts,” Sams yelled. “How soon on the boat?”
“Boat is gone,” Foster shouted back. “We’re going to need a different exit plan.” He looked at their parked vehicles. There was no way all of them could reach them before the Reapers did. Foster glanced over at the civilians still near him. “Lizzy, Charles, and Amanda. I need you to keep the rest of the group together and behind us. Check and see if anyone is injured from the explosion.”
“I will,” Amanda replied. Foster saw Charles move numbly after her.
“Incoming at ten, eleven, and one o’clock,” Walker shouted. “Lizzy, I need your help now.”
Foster watched as Nick’s wife rushed to her husband’s side and began firing next to him. He looked at the battle unfolding in front of him. There were hundreds of Reapers charging toward them. As he scanned the area, he did a double take. He looked again and saw there were a dozen armed humans, flanked by Reapers, coming toward them.
“Are you seeing what I'm seeing?” Foster said aloud.
“Turncoats,” Walker shouted back. “Are you kidding me?”
Chapter Fifty-Five
The meeting request finally came. And when it did, it was the already captured Reaper simply parroting
a new message. Haas should have figured something like that would happen.
Haas and Giles had agreed to the meeting and followed their guest back to Beeks’ den. Their former inmate had managed to set a secure location that was only a few hours away from their own.
As Haas warily scanned his surroundings, he couldn’t help but be a little impressed. Giles and he were being led through a wide corridor. There was one of Beeks’s soldiers in front of them and a seemingly endless amount of other ones on the sides of the hallway. As they approached, the minions silently flattened against the walls, creating additional space for them to pass. Giles glanced behind him and saw Beeks’ family members shifting back in place after they passed. They weren’t actually soldiers in the traditional sense of the word, but he couldn’t think of a better word to describe the overwhelming number of minions they were passing.
Haas felt a wave of anxiety come rushing forward. There were so many yellow eyes around them. Probably thousands of them, and none of them were under his control. Could he get out of there if they had to? If they were fighting any of them individually, it would have been no match. He was completely confident they could manhandle the lesser beings. But two of them against perhaps thousands of Beeks’ yellow-eyed minions? He hated to admit it even to himself. If this meeting went badly, then their chances of survival were not good. They were very much at the mercy of Beeks keeping his word of safe passage.
Haas turned his attention to the doorway they were quickly approaching. He noticed there were a pair of guards stationed in front of it. Each one was as big as himself and he couldn’t help but be impressed. The massive duo wordlessly slid sideways, creating an opening for them to pass unabated into the next room.
Wretched Retribution Page 26