by Dirk Patton
His thick arm circled the guard’s neck an instant before the blade plunged deep into his lower back, penetrating the man’s kidney. Igor levered back, withdrew the knife and stabbed several more times, hard and fast as he squeezed with his bicep and cut off the man’s air. With his target’s body in shock, Igor changed his grip on the hilt and slid the blade between ribs and into the guard’s heart, then silently lowered the corpse to the forest floor.
There had been almost no sound, certainly none that could have been detected by the other guards as they continued to fire, so Igor slipped backwards before heading down the rear of the line. Strickland was still firing occasional shots, each one coming from a different location, keeping the men’s undivided attention.
Reaching the next guard, Igor kept going without a pause when he saw the neat, red hole in the man’s forehead. The SEAL wasn’t just keeping them engaged, he was also taking out targets. With a nod of respect, Igor angled for the next man who was behind a large tree. He was firing frequently, but keeping his head and body in cover, only extending his arm enough to point the AK in a general direction and pull the trigger.
Without slowing, Igor rose from the ground and took three long strides. In sync with his steps, he buried the full length of the blade in the side of the guard’s neck then slashed out, severing his windpipe and both carotids. The body tumbled to the snow, twin jets of steaming blood spurting into the air.
Five minutes later, there were only two of their attackers that remained alive. Strickland had managed to kill four with head shots while Igor had taken out six with his knife. The final pair were out of ammo and Igor watched them from behind a tree as they huddled together. Their backs were touching as each man stared into the forest with a pistol in his hand.
There was a flash of motion beyond them that they failed to detect, but Igor spotted the young SEAL. He hadn’t been sloppy, he’d flicked his hand to draw Igor’s attention. They communicated briefly, using rough hand signs, then Igor melted away into the dark. When he was clear of the possibility of one of Strickland’s rounds passing through a target and striking him, there were two muted thumps. A moment later, the American called softly and they met at the location where the last two guards had huddled. Both were dead, splashes of blood from the head shots staining the snow where they lay.
“Shooting good,” Igor mumbled.
“Thanks, Ivan,” Strickland said, flashing another of his toothy grins.
Igor frowned at him and held up his knife, which was coated with dark, sticky blood. The SEAL grinned bigger and Igor shook his head as he bent and thrust it into the snow before cleaning the steel on one of the dead guard’s coat. He had just straightened and sheathed the blade when both men’s heads snapped to the north in response to the barking of a dog.
“What the fuck, Ivan?” Strickland asked. “Why are the bastards so determined to get this guy back? What’d he do, fuck a general’s wife or something?”
“Later,” Igor said, tilting his head to the south before taking off at a fast jog.
33
Despite my comment about Bering’s unexplained disappearance from a locked house, I was still struggling with the whole story he’d told. With Dog at my side, I made another, slower search of the house. I tested every shutter, tapped and pushed on every square foot of wall and floor, hoping to find a hidden door. Rachel followed, arms crossed as she watched without participating.
When I was finally done, we returned to the bedroom with the safe. Bering had left the door swinging open and I peered inside. In addition to the weapons and ammo, there was a small laptop and cell phone. Taking the last two items, I led the way back to the kitchen and placed them in the middle of the table.
“What now?” Rachel asked when I didn’t do anything other than stare at the iPhone.
I snorted a laugh and looked up at her, opening my mouth, then closing it and shrugging when I couldn’t come up with an answer. What the hell did I do? Trust a man who’d just spun a tale right out of a Hollywood production? Take everything at face value and protect Barinov?
“Call Hawaii,” Rachel said, pointing at the phone. “He said the Admiral knows about this. Let’s see if that’s true.”
I hesitated, unsure if returning to the fold was the best thing to do, given the current circumstances. But after a minute of considering what I’d been told and giving it even a chance of being true, I realized there wasn’t much of an option. Every part of me longed to kill Barinov and end this nightmare, but if there was even a degree of reality to what I’d been told, doing that would only result in the deaths of millions of people.
With a sigh, I picked up the phone and powered it on. Something about the texture of the back of the device didn’t feel quite right and I flipped it over. A strip of tape ran the length with a seven-digit code written on it in permanent marker. I frowned, checked the screen and saw it was asking for an encryption code.
“Son of a bitch thought of everything,” I mumbled.
I carefully punched in the code and the screen changed, appearing as if the device were a normal iPhone. Well, except for the message across the top that notified me that encryption was successful. Taking a seat, I lit a cigarette and accessed the contacts. I wasn’t certain, but was reasonably sure that the phone would only connect with another that had the same encryption key.
It wasn’t even necessary to scroll. There were only two contacts. One was listed as Operations, the other simply as Johnson. Rachel, seated next to me, watched closely as I selected the second one and pressed the green button to initiate a call. There was a long delay, a series of clicks which I assumed was the encryption synchronizing, then a normal sounding ring that was answered immediately.
“Where are you?” a deep, gruff voice asked.
“I’m probably not who you’re expecting,” I said.
There was a momentary pause of surprised silence.
“Who is this?” he asked, but spoke before I could answer. “Never mind. You’re in our safe house in Sydney. Major Chase?”
I was taken aback, glancing at Rachel when she bumped my arm and pointed at the phone. Taking the handset away from ear, I enabled the speaker so she could hear and placed the device on the table in front of me.
“Correct,” I said. “Who are you?”
“Is Agent Bering with you?”
“No,” I said. “He was, but he disappeared.”
There was another moment of silence, then a different voice spoke.
“Major, my name is Ian Patterson. I am the director of the Athena Project. Since I am speaking to you, I must assume that Agent Bering successfully intervened and prevented the deaths of you and your companion.”
“That’s what he claimed,” I said.
“I can assure you, Major, that if you are alive and well at this point in time, that is precisely what he has done.”
Rachel reached out and tapped an icon to mute the call.
“How would he know this?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been thinking about all of this while you were searching the house. If we supposedly died a couple of hours ago, even if we actually did die, then everyone would be aware of it. Because it happened. Right?”
“I guess so,” I said, nodding but not understanding her point.
“So, this guy is saying that he knows we were killed, but also that we must be alive because Bering saved us. Get it?”
“No,” I said, looking down when Patterson’s voice came from the phone, asking if I was still there.
I pressed the mute button and barked at him to stand by, then muted the call again.
“Think about it,” Rachel said. “If we died, then that’s reality. History. Written in stone. But if we didn’t die, for whatever reason, then there is no record of us dying, because we didn’t! If this is all true, the moment Bering saved us changed history. So, how could this guy know we were dead if we never were in the first place?”
I stared at
her a long beat, realizing she was right. Maybe. The whole concept made my head hurt, but I couldn’t argue with her logic. Placing my hand on top of hers, I took the phone off mute and leaned forward to ensure it clearly picked up my voice.
“I’ve heard some pretty fantastic tales tonight,” I said. “And the pieces aren’t fitting together.”
“What pieces would those be, Major?” Patterson asked calmly.
I glanced at Rachel, seriously considering terminating the call and finding another way to contact the Admiral. She read my expression and nodded at the phone, encouraging me to keep going. I took a deep breath and continued.
“If all this bullshit is true, then how the hell do you know we died? Once we were saved, that was something that never happened. I don’t have any memory or knowledge of it and I supposedly had a ring side seat. If I don’t know this, how the hell can you?”
“Very astute, Major,” Patterson said, sounding unperturbed. “I’ll assume this was actually Ms. Miles who worked out the logic. Am I correct?”
“That’s not an answer,” I said, refusing to let him get under my skin.
“Quite right. It’s not. But the question is valid and the assumption is correct. Except for the fact that data already recorded and sent back to us does not change. I am, at this very moment, viewing footage of the vehicle accident in which you were killed earlier this evening. That is how I know what I know.”
I tapped the mute button and looked at Rachel. She stared back at me, then raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. After a long pause, I shook my head and unmuted the phone.
“I really need to speak with Admiral Packard in Hawaii,” I said, prepared to disconnect the call if I was given any excuse about why that wasn’t possible.
“I’m here, Major,” the Admiral said.
Surprised as I was, I recognized his voice.
“Sir, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Director Patterson brought me on as soon as he realized you were the one calling. I’ve seen the footage of your death and I’m pleased to be speaking with you.”
“You’ve bought into this, sir?”
“Major, do you trust me?” Packard asked patiently.
I hesitated. Not because he’d ever given me a reason to doubt him or his intentions, but… hell… I don’t know why I was still reticent.
“Yes, sir. I do,” I finally said.
“Then believe this. Whatever you have been told that relates to the viability of the Athena Project is true. I’ve met Agent Bering. Sat across a table from him and watched him disappear into thin air when he was pulled back to his time. I’ve read the file you brought out of Offutt and I’ve spoken extensively with the Director. The Reagan is currently at their location and both the Captain and the XO have verified the existence and functionality of the machine. This is real, Major.”
I sat back in my chair and let out a long, quiet breath. Part of me had wanted to believe, but another part hadn’t. Perhaps I wasn’t willing to acknowledge that I’d made a poor tactical decision that had resulted in Rachel, Dog and me losing our lives. If this was all some fantasy, well… But now I had to accept that everything Bering had told me wasn’t a tall tale. It was reality.
“Are you still on the line, Major?” the Admiral asked.
“I’m here, sir. Just feeling a little shell shocked at the moment.”
“I understand the reaction,” he said. “But we don’t have time for that. Now, listen carefully.”
34
The Admiral talked for close to half an hour, relaying all the same details that Bering had provided. I listened closely, without interrupting. By now, everything was starting to settle in. My brain still didn’t want to wrap itself around the idea that there was an actual, honest to God time machine in existence, but neither was I still outright rejecting the concept.
As the Admiral droned on, covering the same ground, my mind began to wander. The first place it went was questioning why someone couldn’t go back and prevent Katie’s death. That got me thinking and, unfortunately, I couldn’t come up with a point in time where something could have been done differently.
Why had she turned? She’d received the same vaccine at Tinker as the rest of us and I was unaware of anyone else that hadn’t been protected by the inoculation. So, what had made her become one of the infected? I couldn’t answer that. All I could say for sure is that if America had never been attacked in the first place, my wife would be alive and well.
“Questions, Major?”
Apparently, the Admiral had finished speaking while my mind was elsewhere.
“Yes, sir. I do have one. Maybe I’ve missed a detail, but if we have a time machine at our disposal, why the hell hasn’t someone gone back and undone this whole thing?”
“I’ll take that one, Admiral,” Director Patterson interjected. “Major, we do have a functioning time machine, but not without limitations. I thought you understood, but I’ll address them again.
“First, there is only one individual who can be transported. This is due to biological damage that occurs to almost anyone who enters the gravity well of the wormhole. Before the world was destroyed, there were estimated to only be a handful of people with the proper genetic structure to survive the rigors of transport. Now, there is one and you have met Agent Bering.
“As you’re almost certainly aware, the attacks were carried out by a very large force, operating in most of the larger cities in North America. Combined with the second limitation, which is that we can go no farther back than thirty-six hours, it was and is impossible to conduct a successful redaction.”
“Redaction?” I asked.
“Our word for changing past events,” Patterson said.
“Why can’t you go farther back than thirty-six hours?” I asked, not ready to let go of the hope that somehow something could be changed.
“It is a technical limitation. I am not a physicist and cannot explain it, but it is what we have dealt with from the inception of the Athena Project.”
I nodded my head and was quiet for a long time, absorbing the information that had dashed my fledgling hope with a huge bucket of ice water.
“Thank you, Mr. Director,” the Admiral finally said. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to have a word in private with the Major.”
“Certainly, Admiral.”
A moment later there was a click as he disconnected.
“Major?”
“Here, sir,” I said.
“I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”
“Sir?”
“I seem to recall you giving me your word that you wouldn’t go after Barinov on your own.”
“Yes, sir. I believe you’re correct. I’m sorry, sir.”
“I don’t want apologies, Major!” he bellowed into the phone. “You broke your word to me and you caused events that could have been avoided! If I had another asset in Australia, believe me, I’d have asked the Director to let events remain unchanged. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, sir. I do,” I said, lighting a cigarette with an unsteady hand and staring at the wall on the far side of the room.
The phone was quiet for a moment as Packard got his emotions under control.
“Major,” he finally spoke, his voice tight. “I’m not going to ask if I can count on you. You’ve shown, at least when it comes to Barinov, that you cannot be trusted. However, I am asking you to think about the millions of people that will be killed if you do not stop the strike team.”
“I’ve already decided that’s what I’m going to do, sir. For what it’s worth.”
“I sincerely hope so, Major. For all our sakes. But if you fail, or change your mind, understand this. I will personally call Barinov with a warning. That may result in the release of the nerve agent within Australia, but my hope is it will not facilitate the launch of nuclear weapons on Hawaii. There’s still one goddamn million Americans here, Major! If I can’t stop the death of Australia, I’m sure as hell g
oing to roll the dice and hope to save the last remnants of our country. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. I understand,” I said, my voice weaker than normal from the dressing down I’d just received.
“Good luck, Major. Once again, Hawaii finds itself depending on you. Don’t let us down!”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Now, stand by. You need to speak with Chief Simmons.”
With that, there was a click as he put me on hold.
“That was unpleasant,” Rachel said, gently rubbing my arm.
“Deserved, I suppose,” I said.
I was still smarting, but not because I’d been yelled at. Hell, I’ve been taken down a few pegs by some of the best the US Army ever produced. First Sergeants and Command Sergeant Majors can chew ass better than any flag officer ever thought possible. But it’s one thing to take a verbal assault, it’s entirely another when the person delivering it is precisely on target.
What the Admiral had said, without actually using the words, was that the deaths of the SEAL team, Nitro, Goose, Monk and Bunny were on me. That if I’d simply followed orders, none of them would have been put in the situation in the first place. And he was right. I’d already had the same thought, many times, and was trying to deal with the guilt.
“Hi, sir,” Jessica said from the phone.
“Hi, Chief. What have you got for me?”
“Something you need to know about. We’ve found the deadman switch, and it’s apparently on or in Barinov’s body! We’ve also identified most, if not all, of the locations where nerve gas canisters are positioned throughout Australia.”
“That’s great news, Chief!” I said, sitting up straighter and sharing an excited glance with Rachel.
“Not necessarily, sir,” she said. “Let me fill you in.”
I lit another cigarette, glanced at Dog who was asleep on his back, then focused my attention on the phone as if I could see Jessica.
“There is some sort of device constantly monitoring Barinov’s vital signs, blood pressure and heart rate, and then transmitting them to all of the weapon stations. But there’s more to it than that. They built in a safeguard to prevent anyone from spoofing the data.”