Spooky was monitoring real-time satellite access and watched as an Air Force KC-135 Stratotanker flew with smoke pouring out of three engines. It pancaked into the ground right where the camp's driveway started and then fireballed, sending burning JP-8 throughout the camp and the surrounding forest. Spooky shuddered. There was no way anything was going to survive that inferno.
The resulting fire would incinerate everything within a quarter-mile of the crash site to ash and would leave a burn area that covered ten square miles before finally going out. It would soon be named the worst military and civilian accident in the history of the United States.
31
AFTERMATH
PUEBLO MEMORIAL AIRPORT, PUEBLO, COLORADO
The War Wagon pulled into the Pueblo Memorial Airport the following afternoon. The evening before, the team had stayed at a hotel close to the base while Boomer, God, and Do-Right had their battle wounds treated at the base hospital.
God and Boomer both had their fractured bones set and were both told that they were lucky that they did not have to have surgery. Do-Right was put through a battery of tests, and the hospital staff concluded that he suffered a concussion. The team was also able to store the body of their leader in the hospital morgue for the night, and they made arrangements to get him to the airfield the next afternoon.
The next morning, a weary, bruised, and battered team set out for the small town of Trinidad in the War Wagon. Bill, the former archery instructor for the camp, and Hannah, the camper who Boomer rescued, both refused to stay and wait on base. Instead, they rode inside the cramped MRAP with the rest of the team. When they arrived, the team immediately went to the county jail to check on their prisoners. As Doc had predicted, the former acting mayor and the former coroner were little more than gibbering fools. They were shouting about monsters and blood and fire to any who would listen. A quick call to the Colorado Springs U.S. Attorney's Office yielded an involuntary commitment to a psychiatric facility for both of them.
At the urging of Ghost, Christian Folsom officially resigned from the Las Animas County Sheriff Department. Turning in his uniforms and service weapon, he walked out of the building with his head high. Do-Right's smile was bittersweet as he climbed up into the War Wagon, turning his back on his youth and his hometown. The memorial service for his wife and children, as well as all the other victims of the monsters, would take place in a week, and he promised that he would be back for the services.
The town of Trinidad had already started recovering and rebuilding from the tragedies of the recent monster scourge. The paranormal and conspiracy websites were working overtime due to the incoherent reports of monsters and secret government teams. The new acting mayor and sheriff were quick to stop any rumors that contradicted the official story of a deep ISIS cell buried in the small town. And they never, officially, deviated from those statements.
The team had one last stop to make before they could leave town. They traveled out to the old pharmacist's residence to make sure that the mouth of the hellgate was sealed. As they arrived at the top of the driveway, all but two of the team's passengers got out of the vehicle and wandered around the property. They individually kicked through the charred and scattered ruins of the house, making sure that there was nothing to link DHS to the house or to any monsters.
Heavy walked up to the big cellar doors that led down to the caverns. He gave several good tugs to make sure that the welds were solid and that the chains would hold. He jumped back when the doors started to rattle from the other side. As he stepped back and drew his sidearm, he yelled for his teammates.
As the others drew around, the large doors bulged and creaked outward, as if some immense force was pushing from the other side. Those who were armed quickly drew their sidearms, and Ghost drew his sword. The team took a collective step back as the doors groaned under the weight of the force. Suddenly, a weld seam ripped, and the doors crashed open as the chains that bound the doors shattered.
A roiling darkness waited just below the ledge of the doorway. Doc recognized that it was the same material that pooled in the pit from the caverns and the bottom of the silo. Her vestments began to glow a bright yellow as a form emerged from the inky blackness. As it rose smoothly, the darkness acted like liquid, as it dripped and ran in rivulets down the emerging figure.
The humanoid figure stood about five feet tall and was thin and dressed in all black. Its pale gray skin was visible on its hands as the figure held a small staff or cane, while the rest remained hidden beneath a voluminous robe with a cowl and hood that obscured the face. The figure threw back its cowl, revealing a pale gray face that was all at once terrifying and beautiful. Its blood red mouth was unadorned with fangs, however the creature's coal black eyes were lit with a faint red glow. Long violet hair was pulled back in a simple knot and revealed slightly pointed ears.
The figure smiled and spoke in a voice that was beautiful but cold. "You must be the humans causing me so much trouble. Not much to look at, are you?"
Ghost stepped forward and leveled his blade at the figure. "Who are you, and what do you want?" he asked.
The figure moved his hands and held them in a placating gesture. "Please, human. We will meet later, rest assured. I never forget an insult. As for who I am? Tell your Agent Smith that Demius Sayevuud sends his greetings."
With a small gesture, the inky darkness began enveloping the figure before them. In seconds, the figure was fully engulfed, and the darkness spread back down into the doorway. It then spiraled and folded in on itself until it vanished completely.
Heavy took the first step forward with his flashlight. The stairwell down was darker and a bit rougher after the Boomer's first explosion, but the corridor still angled out of sight at the bottom.
Boomer walked back over to the War Wagon and opened her kit. Working one-handedly, it took her a bit longer than was usual, but she came back to the hole holding a rather large chunk of plastic explosive fixed to a timer. She raised her eyebrow at Ghost, and he simply nodded.
Setting the time for ten minutes, she carefully double-checked her setup. Boomer walked down the stairs and leaned around the corner. The light filtering down showed her that the first cavern was still largely intact. The explosives expert calmly walked over to the center of the cavern and set the explosive package down. Looking around once more, she reached down and hit the start button to begin the countdown timer.
The War Wagon was parked at the bottom of the driveway when the explosive package detonated ten minutes later. The twenty-seven-ton truck rocked on its massive shocks as the top of the hill erupted in a geyser of rock and mud.
Heavy looked at the geyser and said, "I guess we call that Mount Saint Hellgate?"
The tension broke as laughter rolled throughout the truck. The team was still laughing minutes later as the fire trucks arrived on scene. Ghost wiped the tears from his eyes and stepped out of the truck. He waved his badge at the first responding truck and then at the fire chief when he arrived. By the time Ghost let the trucks through, there was nothing to clean up, except for a few small brush fires. Ghost put the War Wagon in gear and headed north to Pueblo Airport.
WHEN THE WAR WAGON pulled onto the airport parking lot, the team saw the waiting C-17 Globemaster. A small ambulance, surrounded by an armed troop of DHS agents, was parked next to the Air Force jet. Ghost parked the MRAP next to the waiting ambulance, and the team began to unload.
As the agents climbed out of the truck, the stairs to the passenger compartment came down, and Gretchen and Agent Smith walked slowly down the stairs. The supervising agent solemnly went to each team member and shook his or her hand as he offered his thanks and condolences. When he got to the two civilians, Ghost introduced them.
"Agent Smith, this is Hannah Cresswell. She was one of the senior girls at the camp. And this is Bill Buckhorn, former archery instructor at Blue Mountain."
Smith shook hands with both of them. "Ms. Cresswell. I'm sorry that we haven't been able to let
you contact your parents yet. We have several questions that we need to answer before we can do so. Don't worry. I want to return you to your parents, if at all possible.
"Mr. Buckhorn. I understand you were instrumental in helping save my team. For that, I am grateful. We need to talk a little later about possible employment opportunities, now that your prior position is no longer available."
Smith looked at his team. "As Ghost requested, Mr. Holstein's body is still waiting to be loaded onto the plane. There is a special storage compartment for his remains, but I thought you would want to carry him aboard yourselves."
As one, the team moved to the back door of the ambulance. The paramedics brought out the body, still in the body bag they had originally used, on a stretcher. Every team member took a handle, save for Doc. She stood behind the body and read last rites and funeral liturgies as the team carried the body solemnly up the ramp and into the waiting storage. They would again perform the somber duty when the plane touched down outside Langley.
The team grabbed their gear from the War Wagon and allowed one of the waiting cargo masters to drive the truck up the ramp and secure it in the plane. One-by-one, the team, their passengers, and the Section 28 staff filed up the stairs and into the waiting lounge. Unlike standard Globemaster aircraft, this one had been designed so that the passenger portion of the cargo bay was well appointed and comfortable to be in. Thick soundproofing muted the dull roar of the spooling engines, and comfortable chairs and tables were available as well as fold-down bunks in the back. The team settled in, and Agent Smith lifted a handset attached to his chair.
"Tell the pilot we're ready to go when he is. Have him get clearance for a direct flight. Make this one as short as possible. Thank you."
The huge engines roared outside and the passengers felt the plane taxi and then take off. They would touchdown in Virginia in just under four hours.
BACK AT THE headquarters for Section 28, the team apartments somehow felt empty. Six's gear had already been collected and sent to storage. Agent Smith let the team know that memorial services would be held the following afternoon and that anyone needing a suit or other clothing should let him know so that the quartermaster could locate proper attire for him or her. The service would be a small memorial with only current on-site staff attending and Six would be interred in a plot consecrated specifically for Section 28 Agents.
The cold and dreary day fit the somber mood of those who attended the memorial. The light drizzle masked the tears of Boomer and Doc as they watched their fallen team leader lowered into the ground. The service was short with a few words from Agent Smith and final rites from Doc. The procession of black SUVs back to headquarters was silent as the other agents reflected on their own mortality.
The following day, Christian Folsom and William Buckhorn were both sworn in as the newest members of team Knightmare. Do-Right had earned his new callsign in the field, and it became official. Buckhorn's experience and his Navajo heritage gave Agent Smith the perfect callsign for the new agent: "Scout."
That same day, Ghost was officially recognized as the new team leader for Knightmare.
Agent Smith talked with the new team leader. "You will need to pick a second, and soon," Smith advised. "I have full confidence in your leadership. Your skills with handling people will be a major asset as we move forward."
Do-Right flew back to Pueblo for the trip to Trinidad four days later. While he expected to make the journey alone, Agent Smith released the entire Knightmare team to attend with him for support. The Agency's Citation X flew the team to Colorado in style, and the multiple black SUVs waiting for the team at the airport added the perfect touch.
Instead of their tactical BDUs, all members of the team, except for Ghost and Doc, wore gray or black business suits the following day. Looking every inch the federal agents that they were, each member wore their suit well, while the team's sniper leaned on a cane with his leg in an air cast. Ghost showed up in a shirt and tie with dress pants instead of his normal jeans. Instead of a suit jacket and dress shoes, the new team leader wore cowboy boots, his blessed leather duster, and his hat, which he removed and held for the ceremony. Doc wore her full vestments and stole for the ceremony.
Once the memorial service was over with, Do-Right needed to see his family's home one more time. The former deputy entered through the front door, ducking under the police tape that was stretched all around. He went throughout the house and gathered some pictures and a few knickknacks that were of sentimental value to him. The new DHS agent wandered around his house for thirty minutes as he remembered his family and dried the tears from his eyes.
Do-right spent the rest of the next day sorting through his personal life and arranging for his departure from town. He met with a broker and put his house on the market. Agent Smith sent a discreet moving truck with additional help to clean out his house. Those possessions that he no longer wanted were cleaned and set aside for an estate sale.
While the former deputy sorted through his life prior to Section 28, the rest of the team split up and ran several errands. Doc led a team comprised of God, Heavy, and Spooky back to the recently nicknamed Mount Saint Hellgate. When they were there, they placed a small electronics package on the site. Burying the main box console about three feet deep, they extended two small antennas up through the ground so that they could sample the air and electromagnetic field emissions from the area around them. This specially designed instrument package was engineered to monitor the site for any incursion-related activity and to relay the activity to Section 28.
Boomer drove Ghost and Scout out of town the same afternoon. As they drove up to the former site of Blue Mountain Ranch, the agents were anxious to see the area firsthand. Two hours later, the government SUV arrived at the burnt-out wreckage that was the Ranch. Every building and most of the trees in the area directly surrounding the camp were flattened from the concussive blast and burned from the resulting fires.
The team was amazed at the destructive power that the tanker had unleashed when it crashed onto the field. They had read the reports of the mangled bodies and shredded remains, but they had not imagined what it would look, and smell, like in person. Ghost showed his credentials to the sheriff's deputy that was guarding the road. Moving forward, the team's SUV was forced to stop about a hundred yards from the actual site. After they exited their SUV, the team walked toward the main staging area for the National Transportation Safety Board and DHS teams charged with handling the crash.
Ghost walked up to the DHS agent in charge, Special Agent Hart, from the Denver office. Agent Hart recognized Ghost and Boomer, and her demeanor chilled. "Agent Vanhof, and Agent... Callahan. To what do I owe the pleasure? And who is this with you?"
"Special Agent Hart, this is Agent William Buckhorn," Ghost said as he turned to Scout and introduced him to the agent. "He recently joined our deployment team." Turning to Bill, Ghost continued, "This is Special Agent Sonja Hart. She's the SAC from Denver. If we're in this area, we're stomping on her backyard."
Scout reached out to shake Agent Hart's hand, and, as she took it, she paused. A look passed through her eyes as if she was putting pieces together. She suddenly rounded on Ghost and unleashed a torrent of questions.
"Isn't there a 'William Buckhorn' that's missing from this site? Is he of any relation?" she questioned.
Ghost smiled and replied, "You could say that. We got him out before the plane crashed. He's one of ours now."
The light dawned behind the senior agent's eyes. She let out an expletive, and her voice grew quiet and cold. "This was one of your operations? What happened? Did the little kids insult Agent Smith?"
Ghost's eyes narrowed. "Cheap shots don't become you, Agent Hart. I can neither confirm, nor deny, that we were here. If you need any further answers, you might want to contact Agent Smith's office.
"To that end, I do need a favor from you," Ghost said and then smiled his most disarming smile.
Hart spoke through gritted teeth
. "What do you need?" she demanded.
Ghost set a small bag down on the table in the command center, and drew an incursion detection unit from the bag. Ghost set about showing Agent Hart how to bury and activate the device, a twin of the unit just placed in Trinidad.
At the end, the new team leader said, "Hopefully, this instrument package will help us make sure that there is not another incident like this in the future."
Hart looked at the device and then back at Ghost. "I'll make sure it gets done properly. Anything to get you out of my hair faster."
AT SECTION 28 HEADQUARTERS, outside Langley, Virginia, Agent Smith sat down to have a conversation with a sixteen year old survivor of Blue Mountain Ranch. The meeting was in the team's lounge area, outside the room where she was temporarily assigned.
A sixteen-year-old Latina girl with black hair and deep hazel eyes sat slouched in an overstuffed chair across from the prim and proper figure of Agent Smith. He had just sat down with the girl after bringing her a carbonated beverage. He paused a few moments to look over the girl. Satisfied, he began.
"Miss Cresswell. I sincerely apologize for making you wait this long to talk to your parents. I had to make sure that we had all the options sorted out before I could talk to you."
Hannah looked up, eagerly waiting to hear when she could call her folks. They must be going out of their minds. She leaned forward a little as she waited for the federal agent to go on.
"As I see it, we have two options for you. If we take the first option, you would be able to return to your parents' house almost immediately. With a little makeup and special effects, we can easily make it look like you were wandering in the woods for a long time." Smith saw the gleam in the girl's eyes. "Before you get all excited, this option requires certain... assurances.
INCURSION: Knightmare (Knight's Bane Trilogy Book 1) Page 30