The Signal

by John Sneeden

  A number of questions flashed through his mind: Were the Americans launching an attack? If so, would they be successful, or were there too many bad guys? And if there were indeed too many bad guys, should he do something to help? Philippe was not a man of violence, and he was unarmed anyway. But there were other ways to help besides the use of force, so he began to make his way over to the building.

  Deciding to take one last look, Philippe aimed the monocular at the window where he had seen the flashes of gunfire. As everything came into focus, he saw two figures slam up against the window—a woman with shoulder-length hair, and a man. They were wrestling, and it looked as though the woman was holding the man so strongly that he couldn’t get away. As Philippe watched the man try to squirm free, a blinding flash came out of the two bodies. The light was bright, like that of a welder’s torch, and it was followed one second later by the roar of an explosive blast.

  Philippe watched in horror as the glass blew outward and a plume of fiery smoke billowed up into the air. He knew that both of the people who had been struggling had left this world, and sadness gripped him. There had to be other people in the room who would need help, so he decided to leave at once.

  But when he rose to his feet, the unthinkable happened—a second explosion took place, this one much more powerful than the first. As Philippe looked on, a giant red fireball rippled upwards into the night sky.

  Although it was hard to see through all the intervening smoke from the first explosion, Philippe believed the second blast had taken place in one of the other buildings, perhaps the next one down. But what had caused it? He doubted the Americans had any explosives with that kind of firepower, so he made an assumption that it had something to do with the collider. He just hoped his friends weren’t anywhere near. The thought of what might have happened to them if they were made him physically sick.

  As Philippe was about to turn toward the stairs, a voice in his spirit told him to stop and look again. As he did, his eyes were drawn to the distant smoke. The funnel cloud was still there, spinning above the point of the second explosion. In some strange way, the two things seemed connected.

  Raising the monocular to his right eye, Philippe turned the focus wheel to adjust for the greater distance. After staring for a moment, he felt a chill creep over his body. There were several figures twisting in the funnel cloud itself, their grotesque shapes illuminated by the glow of the fire that raged below. They seemed caught up in a macabre dance as they descended down into the building below. They were large creatures, probably two to three times the height of a man, and possessed heads of an odd shape that seemed vaguely familiar.

  “My Heavenly Father,” Philippe whispered, mesmerized by the scene. “Surely this can’t be true.” And yet he knew it was.

  Realizing the others were now facing a danger they weren’t equipped to deal with, Philippe turned and ran toward the stairwell. Just as he arrived, he heard a strange wail that seemed to come out of the sky. He stopped, unable to move. Words couldn’t begin to describe the noise that met his ears.

  At this point he knew only one thing, it was not of this world.

  Philippe took the stairs, moving faster than he ever had in his life.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  WHEN THE BLAST came, it was surprisingly loud. Zane exited into the corridor at the same time as Reid and Skinner, and all three burst through the doors and into the lobby. As they entered, Zane realized they couldn’t have asked for a better setup. Four Renaissance guards were making their way into the control room, leaving their backs exposed. In addition, the room was filled with smoke, providing some level of cover to the Delphi operatives.

  One of the guards heard the operatives enter and shouted a warning to the others, who turned around and began to fire. As their bullets chewed through the walls around the lobby, Zane dropped to one knee and brought his Glock up with two hands, aiming it at the one who had given the alarm. The red laser sight bobbed around in the thick smoke until it settled on his forehead. Zane squeezed the trigger twice, and the man fell backwards, his rifle firing harmlessly into the ceiling as the life drained from his body.

  Skinner likewise took down the next man over, leaving Reid to engage the final two on the right. Reid fired once at the man on the right, and then swung the gun to the left and fired again at the next man over. The first man fell backwards, his rifle flying up into the air. He was dead before he hit the ground. The second man took evasive action by rolling along the floor, causing Reid’s shot to sail harmlessly by. The guard brought his weapon up in one smooth motion and began to fire. One of the bullets found Reid’s leg, and the operative fell to the ground, writhing.

  Zane saw that the Renaissance guard was up on one knee, aiming his rifle at Reid’s head. A moment later there was a soft spitting sound and then a grunt. The guard teetered for a few seconds and then fell over, a pool of crimson spreading away from his head. Zane turned and saw Skinner standing there in the smoke, his gun still raised. Had he waited another second or two then Reid might now be dead.

  When Zane arrived at Reid’s side, he found the bullet hole in a pant leg and ripped it open. Fortunately the round had simply grazed his calf muscle, so Reid waved off any further help.

  Leaping over the bodies, Zane led Skinner and a hobbling Reid over to the entrance to the control room. As he opened the door, a second explosion sounded from somewhere behind them, this one so powerful that the whole building shook.

  Unfortunately there wasn’t time to ponder the source of the second blast, so Zane entered the room. The smoke was even thicker inside, and combined with the darkness, it was almost impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction. As they stood there trying to get their bearings, two shots rang out, with one of the bullets buzzing overhead.

  “Zane!” someone shouted to his right. “Over here.”

  Turning, he saw Carmen standing behind the wall of a cubicle, holding a rifle. He signaled the others to follow him over to her position. When he got close, he was shocked to see Amanda on her knees behind the Italian. She was also holding a rifle.

  “No time to explain,” Carmen said. “She twisted her ankle pretty bad but is going to be fine.”

  The cough of gunfire continued, prompting Carmen to pop up over the wall of the cubicle and fire several shots toward the window. Zane realized that some of Mironov’s men must have survived the blast and were gathered there. After ducking back down, Carmen said, “Good thing you have long hair, or I might have shot you.”

  Zane asked Reid and Skinner to set up in a defensive position in case the Renaissance goons tried to cross the room and use the smoke as cover to make an attack. He then turned to Carmen. “Where is VanGelder?”

  “He was inside this cubicle along with Mironov and Marrese.” She patted the wall next to her. “This is where they were controlling the collider. I tried to go in and look but came under fire. I couldn’t risk getting hurt or killed and leaving Amanda to fend for herself.”

  “How many shooters are there?” Zane asked, waving the smoke out of his face and coughing.

  “I counted ten security personnel in this room before the explosion,” Carmen shouted over the sound of gunfire. “I think the explosion probably took out half of them, maybe more.”

  “How did the bot create—”

  “A self-destruct program.” Carmen stood up and fired another shot toward the window. “She grabbed the one who was running the collider and dragged him over to the window.”

  “Which means she—”

  “Yes. Gone. Destroyed. Unfortunately, I don’t know what happened to Mironov and Marrese. I haven’t seen them since the blast either.”

  “What about that second blast? I’m thinking it must have something to do with the collider.”

  “One of the collision points is underneath these buildings, so that would make sense.”

  Zane lifted his hand to his face and spoke into the microphone on his cuff, calling up Brett. When Delphi’s Chief
Technology Specialist responded, the operative brought him up to date on all that had transpired. Zane stood up and tried to look over into the cubicle. A shot rang out, so he dropped down again.

  While on his knees, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Despite the haze, he saw two figures crossing through the smoke in a crouched position. It seemed as though they were trying to make it to the entrance undetected. Flapping behind one of the men was a cape. Marrese. But who was with him? VanGelder? Was Marrese taking the Dutch physicist off to some new location to continue the madness?

  “Skinner,” Zane hissed in a low voice. “I need you guys to cover me. A couple of tangos left the room.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Negative,” Zane said. “I need you to stay here with Connor and Carmen and clean up. Now can you cover me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I just need a few quick blasts… five or ten seconds' worth is all I’ll need.”

  “Roger that. Let me know when to start.”

  Zane signaled that they should start now.

  Seconds later, as the shots rang out, he jumped up and ran toward the doors. Someone fired at him from the direction of the window. Stopping to return fire would be pointless in a smoke-filled environment, so Zane sprinted out of the room.

  As he exited into the lobby, Zane pulled out the pistol that was tucked into the back of his pants and crossed over to the double doors they had come through earlier. Cracking one of them open, he peeked through to make sure there wasn’t an ambush on the other side. Seeing and hearing nothing, he opened it completely and stepped into the hallway beyond.

  Mindful that the former priest could be hiding anywhere, he moved forward cautiously, glancing inside rooms and behind lockers as he made his way through the building.

  When he reached the first intersection, he heard the sound of muffled voices in the distance. One voice was curt and commanding, and the other much softer. The second voice had an almost pleading tone. Marrese and VanGelder, Zane guessed.

  Unfortunately it was difficult to discern the direction the sounds were coming from. Discerning no movement down either of the intersecting halls, Zane decided to continue straight ahead. It was an old rule of thumb that had served him well: if there was no compelling reason to change course, then don’t.

  Shortly after the first intersection, Zane’s eyes began to water and sting, a sign that the smoke was beginning to thicken again. At first the presence of smoke so far from the control room confused him, but then he remembered the second blast.

  Soon the smoke began to affect his throat as well, and he coughed for several seconds, the sound echoing down the hall. As soon as the noise died away, he noticed he couldn’t hear the voices anymore. Had they heard him, or had they simply traveled out of range?

  Zane started walking again, staying alert for movement or sound. He needed to catch up with Marrese, but at the same time, he was also mindful he could walk right into a trap.

  As he continued down the hall, Zane began to wonder what Marrese was trying to do. Was he simply trying to get out of the building? Since the priest had already passed the exit doors in the lobby, that didn’t seem likely. The more likely answer was that he was attempting to finish what they had started. And Zane sensed that it had something to do with whatever caused the second explosion, as that was the direction in which Marrese seemed to be moving.

  “Zane, do you read?” Brett asked in the operative’s earpiece.

  Zane, startled for a brief moment, quickly ducked into a nearby room and shut the door behind him. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time, but go ahead,” he whispered.

  “I’ll make it quick. We’ve been monitoring local law enforcement channels, and unfortunately several families in Prévessin-Moëns have reported hearing explosions.”

  “Not surprising.”

  “The good news is they don’t know where the explosions were coming from.”

  “Brett, listen to me. You need to tell me how I can help you.”

  “The bottom line is, Dr. Ross is concerned that the local police may show up sooner rather than later and wanted me to try to raise you for a progress report. I heard your conversation with Skinner. Have you located VanGelder?”

  “I’m in pursuit now, but that’s all I can tell you at this point.”

  “Understood,” Brett said. “Just give us a progress report when you can. We’ll try to monitor law enforcement and let you know if they’re headed your way.”

  “Roger that. I’m headed out,” Zane replied as he opened the door.

  As soon as he stepped out, the operative heard three sounds in quick succession: a ding, a sliding noise, and then a few seconds later, a loud metal clang. The noises seemed relatively close, which meant he hadn’t lost as much time as he had feared.

  He crept forward, hugging the side of the corridor in an attempt to reduce his profile. After crossing through the next intersection, he came to an abrupt halt. Just yards away was a crater that stretched from one side of the hall to the other. A thick cloud of smoke hung inside of it, a remnant of the explosion that had taken place minutes before. There was also a hole in the ceiling directly above, indicating the powerful blast had managed to rip all the way up through the roof of the building.

  As his eyes continued to adjust, Zane noticed that the smoke in front of him was actually spinning like a small cyclone. The funnel came down through the roof and disappeared into the darkness of the crater. Zane wondered what might be cause of the strange scene in front of him, but he also knew there wasn’t time for scientific inquiry. He had to stay focused on the task of finding Marrese and whoever else was with him.

  The priest must have taken a crossing corridor, so Zane quickly returned to the last intersection. He looked both ways. To the left, in the distance, was a dim light. When Zane stepped out into the hall, he saw the source of the light was a panel just above an elevator door.

  It all made sense now. The sound of the chime had been the elevator car arriving, and the other two sounds were the opening and shutting of the door.

  Marrese was headed underground.

  As he drew closer, Zane realized he was looking at one of those industrial elevators common in manufacturing plants and research facilities. There would be a shaft, and inside that shaft would be a metal cage that was often used to carry equipment and supplies.

  There was a window set in the door, so Zane turned on his filtered flashlight and directed the beam inside. The interior was exactly as he anticipated—an empty shaft, with cables that disappeared into the darkness below.

  Zane lifted his wrist to his mouth and whispered, “Skinner, do you read?”

  “This is Brett. For whatever reason the others have dropped off.”

  Zane was concerned that the others weren’t responding, but didn’t have time to worry about it. “Brett, it looks as though Marrese and VanGelder are headed underground. I'm at the elevator and am about to descend, so communication may not be an option going forward.”

  “Copy that. If Skinner and the others come back up I’ll get word to them.”

  As the conversation ended, Zane directed the beam of his flashlight toward the control panel on the right side of the door. He pressed the sole button located there, and immediately there was a loud hum as the car began its ascent from the bottom.

  When Zane extinguished his light, he was immediately hit with a strong sense that something or someone was moving down the hallway toward his position. He lifted the flashlight and turned it on. The red-filtered beam was weak, and the only thing he could see was the faint haze of smoke. If someone or something was about to attack, he’d have precious little time to react.

  Realizing the flashlight only made him a target, Zane turned it off and remained still, listening to the hum of the elevator car as it continued its slow ascent. As he waited, something else hit him, the smell of rotting flesh. The scent was putrid, almost like death itself. Zane slid his finger over the tr
igger of his gun and squinted, trying to make out movement in the darkness.

  When the car finally arrived, the smell of rotting flesh was almost overwhelming, wrapping around the operative as though it were trying to hold him.

  With a bump and a ding, the elevator door opened. Light spilled out of the car and into the hallway. Zane used the opportunity to look around one last time but saw nothing. Not caring to wait around, he stepped inside the cage-like car and pressed the Down button. As the door began to close, Zane heard the unmistakable thump of steps that were closing in fast.

  Zane got down on one knee and pointed his pistol at the shrinking opening. Just as the doors were about to close, the pace of the steps increased, and a shadow spilled into the car.

  The door clanged shut, followed by a loud crash on the outside, as though a great weight had been launched against the exterior. The impact rippled into the cage itself, causing it to shake back and forth. Zane toppled over and his gun clanged across the floor.

  As the elevator began to descend, Zane looked up and saw something pressed against the window. It was a face, and it was one he knew he’d never forget.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  AT FIRST HE thought it was a dream, one with sound but no picture. The first thing he heard was a distant popping, almost like fireworks at a waterfront celebration. But as the sound grew louder, Markus VanGelder realized it wasn’t pyrotechnics, but gunfire. Nor was it a dream; it was very much real.

  Sliding back to consciousness, he realized that almost every part of his body hurt. His head was throbbing and tender, and his eyes were stinging even though they were closed. What had happened? He had a vague memory of an explosion and gunfire but nothing else. He didn’t know what had caused it or where it had come from, only that there had been a loud noise and then darkness.