by Mark Harritt
Lieutenant Pang shook her head. “John, Big Dog won’t work. We don’t know what is up there, and Big Dog can’t climb. We need the drone.”
John’s eyes shined as he thought about it. He nodded in agreement.
Bob thought about the conversation. He looked at Pang, “I think we need to let the team know about the other things we have.” Both Pang and Smith looked concerned.
Mike looked at Bob. He pantomimed pulling up his sleeve. Then he mimicked one of his favorite cartoons, “Hey, Rocky, you want to see me pull a rabbit out of my hat?” His voice switched to normal, “How much stuff do you guys have in storage?”
They were interrupted again, this time Mitchem and Randall were walking out of the stairwell. “What the hell is going on here? Why is your soldier manhandling Director Jamison like that? And what the hell is that?”
All three looked over as Mitchem and Randall walked to where they were standing. His eyes were as big as dinner plates. The realization that something was very wrong with their situation was finally starting to drill into his mind. Still, he wasn’t going to let go of the anger or contempt he held for Mike’s team.
“What’s he doing to the Director?” Mitchem pointed at Mickey, where Jamison was howling and still trying to get out of Mickey’s grip.
Mike looked over at the director, “That guy is seriously mental. We’re trying to get it through his head that things have changed.”
Mike looked at the Lieutenant Colonel, “Look, I understand you don’t like me, and don’t like my team. Personally, I don’t give a crap.”
Mitchem stared at him, his eyes the eyes of a cobra sizing up a rat for food.
Mike continued, “Right now, there are some strange things happening. First, the exit to this building has been sealed by some kind of glassine rock, and I think that the service elevator,” he pointed at the elevator with its doors ripped apart, “maybe the only way out of this installation.”
He let this sink in, then continued, “Second, we have been attacked by something out of a H.P. Lovecraft novel. It looks like a dragon. I don’t believe in dragons, so I’m inclined to believe that something untoward has happened.”
He let this sink in. Mitchem and Randall seemed less than convinced.
Mike looked at him. “Colonel Mitchem, I need you to get your security team together, and help anybody that is caught up in this mess. We’ll need to find everybody, and treat anybody that is hurt. While your team does that, I’m going to put the engineering team to work adding the mods to the mech armor. My team is going to make sure that this area, since it is the only way that I know of that anything can get in or out, stays secure. Roger?”
LTC Mitchem nodded slowly as he looked at the director sobbing uncontrollably at Mickey’s feet. He got his military bearing back, and nodded more steadily. Then his head cocked slightly as he thought of something, “What do you mean that this is the only way in or out?”
Mike’s demeanor shifted slightly. “You haven’t been to the top floor have you?”
Mitchem shook his head, “No, I haven’t, what’s wrong?”
Mike told them, “Everything is gone. There’s a curved wall of stone or glass up there where the corridor leading to the other parts of Area 19 used to be.”
Shock was on all four faces as he explained this.
Mike turned to Bob, “Bob, get your people working on getting the other equipment up. If any of your guys have and know how to operate a cutting torch, the door to the first floor is stuck, and needs to be removed.” He pointed at Jamison, “I don’t know where he came from, but they may have gotten the doors open.”
Mike turned to Pang, “Jennifer, you need to make sure that nobody goes off the deep end about this. Make sure everybody has a job to keep them busy. I don’t want anyone thinking about our situation too much.”
Jennifer and Bob went off to ensure that their tasks were accomplished, talking to various members of the engineering team, the ones that Mike had previously watched and figured out were the de facto leaders of the techs on the engineering team.
Mike looked at Lieutenant Colonel Mitchem, “Do you have any questions?”
Mitchem looked back at him, “This isn’t over. You’re overstepping your authority, Chief, and I plan on ensuring that you pay for it.”
Mike waved a hand at him, “Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re going to destroy my career, take my commission. Well, get in line. I think you’re standing behind Jamison at this point.”
He noticed Dr. Randall holding her arm. He turned back and yelled at Mickey.
“Hey, Mick! Can you come over here and take a look at Dr. Randall’s arm? It may be broken.” Mike directed Dr. Randall to the pallet where Mickey and Dr. Humphreys had set up shop.
Mickey turned away from the sobbing director and walked to his medic bag, then smiled at Dr. Randall, a smile that was not returned. He motioned for her to step over to one of the cots to have a seat. He squatted down next to her, and probed the arm with his fingers to diagnose what was wrong.
Mitchem grabbed Mike by the arm, “I’m going to get my security team, and we’re coming back down here. When I get back, you’re going to have some explaining to do.”
Mike looked back at him, no give in his face, “Do what you have to do. I’ll be in the area. No place else to go.”
Mitchem turned from him, and walked over to Jamison. He pulled the director off the floor stand. Jamison wiped his eyes, then tried to regain some dignity by adjusting his clothes. He glared at Mike as he walked by. They exited back through the stairwell.
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Mike turned to Everett, Rob, and Tom. They listened to the plan as he explained it to the others. He motioned them forward and started giving them assignments. Tom and Rob went to the platform with the weapons, one eye peeled to the elevator shaft. They kitted up with weapons and equipment. All weapons were being checked and loaded. When Mike arrived at the pallet, he asked Mickey, “What’s up with Randall?” She had walked away as the rest of the team walked towards the pallet. Evidently Mitchem had forgotten about her during his fit of anger.
“Well, it isn’t a break, but she’s going to have one hell of a bruise. Might be a hairline fracture, but I can’t tell without an x-ray. I wrapped it up and gave her some Motrin to help with the pain and inflammation.”
Mike gave marching orders for the team to prep, but they were already doing that anyway. Once the team dispersed, he and Everett started talking.
“What the hell is that thing?” was the first question out of Everett’s mouth.
Mike shook his head. “I don’t know. As far as I know we just stepped into the real world Twilight Zone. All I know is that dragon is the biggest, meanest, ugliest thing I have ever seen, and if we want to survive, we need to make sure that we’re bigger and meaner than it ever was.”
Everett nodded in agreement.
Mike continued, “I need for you to keep an eye out for anything that comes through that elevator shaft.”
Everett nodded, and then he spoke, “Mike, I don’t know what’s out there, and I don’t know what the hell this thing is, but we’re going to have to get all that flesh, entrails and blood out of here. Otherwise we’re going to have to deal with whatever scavengers there are out there. The smell alone in here should start drawing large crowds of nasty things to feed on that giant carcass.”
Mike agreed, “Yeah, but first things first. Wounded, Armor, Recon, and then we can cut that carcass up and get it out of here.”
Everett asked, “What are you going to do?”
Mike pointed a thumb back over his shoulder. “Make sure what is left of civilization, and military discipline doesn’t break down before we have a fighting chance to live through this.”
Everett whistled, slow and soft. “I think I would rather face off with the wee beastie again!” This was said in a very bad, mock Scottish accent.
Mike laughed, bitterness clinging to the sound.
“Ye
ah, Mitchem is in shock now, but I’m pretty sure that will wear off soon.”
Everett nodded, “Good luck with that.”
Mickey spoke next, “Boss, as soon as I’m done checking up on everybody, I want to check out the big critter that we snuffed.” Mickey’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm. Mike couldn’t blame him. A new species that nobody had ever seen before would be enough to stimulate anybody’s interests. Mickey looked like a big, dumb bruiser, but he wouldn’t be on the team if he was. The man was scary smart when it came to medicine and chemical/biological weapons.
Mike clapped a hand on Mickey’s shoulder. “Yeah man, as soon as we have everybody secure and scout up the elevator shaft, maybe you can figure out what the hell that thing is.”
“Thanks, boss man.”
Mike grunted, and turned around to go find out what was what. He was more interested in making sure that nobody got eaten or killed.
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“Gentlemen, ladies,” Mike looked around at the engineering team, “My team was almost eaten by a cross between a velociraptor and a stegosaurus. There was a mild earthquake that moved the floor of this facility by about five to ten degrees. Strange things have happened. Welcome to the twilight zone. A ground movement that is capable of tilting this building that much should have brought this entire damn underground facility down on our heads. And yet, the only major thing that happened, is that the corridor that leads to the rest of Area 19, seems to have disappeared and been replaced by liquid rock.”
Mike stopped to let all this sink in, “Things are crazy around here, but my team and I are going to do everything we can to make sure that everybody gets out of this alive and safe.”
He turned to Bob, “Did you say there lasers and slug throwers for the mech armor?” he asked.
Bob nodded, “Yeah, but we have to go to the storage room.”
Mike pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders, “As long as we get them on and loaded before the next evil beast crawls through the door of the elevator shaft.”
That thought brought out some serious looks among the techs. Luis, one of the electrical engineers, looked a little gray.
The engineering team led the way to storage. They had to maneuver down the stairwell to the bottom floor. They rummaged around until Crandall whistled. The techs walked to his location and started pulling black pelican cases out and brought them to Mike, who took them over to the door. Soon there was a pile of twelve cases. There were ten cases that were the same exact size. Then there were two cases that were slightly smaller. Mike figured that the larger cases were the ones that held the armament for the mech armor. He didn’t know what the smaller cases were.Mike moved to the stairwell, and grabbed the rope. He tied the first case to the rope and then yelled up, “First case is ready.”
More techs were upstairs, and they started pulling the case up. It was problematic to carry the case up the stairs, with the crazy angles involved, so this was the best way to get them to the fourth floor. Soon enough, all twelve cases were on the fourth floor. Mike, Bob, and the rest of the techs followed the cases up the stairwell. By the time Mike and his group of techies arrived, all but three of the cases had been transferred out to the mech armor.
As the people brought the pelican cases, Joel Weitz opened up each one, checked to make sure there was no damage, and all parts were present. Weitz was still a pain in the ass, but after the monster attack, he was cooperating. Once he was satisfied with the components, he passed paired cases over to Crandall and his group, whotook each set of the pelican cases and put them next to each suit of mech armor.
John Smith, Luis Garcia and Tracy Sheffield started attaching the weapons to the mech armor and then Smith hooked up diagnostic equipment to make sure the software for each weapon was working correctly. Once he received a green across the board, they started working on the next weapon. It took about thirty minutes for each weapon to be installed.
Mike and the team watched as engineers moved from armor to armor. Bob was sitting close, smoking a cigarette.
“Bob, what kind of weapons are those?” Everett asked.
“Those are a pulse laser and one very small rail gun,”he answered.
“Why a laser and a …. Wait, what the hell is a rail gun?” Rob asked.
Bob shrugged, “well, with the batteries that the armor uses, it was thought that a miniature rail gun for far targets, and a pulse laser that can cut metal as well as anything else that gets in its way, would be the best armament for the mechs.”
“Grenades, chain guns, small arms, missiles?” Mike asked.
Bob shook his head in the negative.
“No, weapons like that need someone on the outside to charge or clear the weapons, because they’re mechanical. With these weapons, all you have to do is turn off the electronics to the weapons, and they’re on ‘safe.’”
“Rail gun?” Rob asked again.
Tom was the one that answered, “Yeah, a rail gun is an electronically fired projectile. The projectile is magnetic, and a pulse of electricity shoots the projectile through electro-magnetically charged rails, hence the name.”
Rob stared at Tom.
“Wow.”
Tom looked back, “What, surprised a hillbilly like me knows something about electro-magnetic ballistic projectiles.”
Rob shook his head, “No man, you actually used the word ‘hence.’ I didn’t think you hillbillies knew that much English.”
Smiles broke out around the pair.
“Well, gallito, it’s a new age. We hillbillies don’t just make ‘shine in the woods anymore.”
Rob smiled, “Do you even know what that word means?”
Tom smiled back, “I know it is better than Maricon or Mamoncete.”
Rob replied with his middle finger.
Mike looked over at Bob, while the two men argued back and forth.
“Bob, what the hell is up with the battery?”
Bob suddenly seemed nervous, “Ah, what do you mean?”
Mike stared at him, “That mech armor uses a hell of a lot of energy. And it’s very quiet, like sneaky quiet. So, that means it’s all electrical. I don’t think you’re changing the batteries every night. I looked in the garbage cans, and I don’t see a whole lot of AA batteries there. There are no cables to charge the suits up. With the amount of time that we’re spending in the armor, I think it would run out of battery power fairly quick.”
Bob looked around before he answered, pitching his voice lower, “Ah, you guys know anything about quantum physics?”
All four guys stared at him.
“You do know about nuclear physics, right?”
Mike was back on solid ground with that question. “Yeah, we know about nuclear physics. Kind of our specialty. We deal with nuclear, biological, chemical, and other nasty stuff. But we don’t do esoteric physics. We’re more hands on than experimental.”
Bob nodded, “Well, you know how much energy a nuclear bomb can produce.”
Everett leaned towards Bob, “Are you telling us that these are nuclear batteries?”
Bob held up his hands, “No, no, they aren’t nuclear. Not at all. That would make any major battle these armor were used in a radiological nightmare to clean up. No, we went a different route.”
“And?” Mike asked.
“Well, we, or I should say, three brilliant men, Drs. Degrassey, Dr. Manard, and Dr. Nachman, figured out a way to mine quantum fluctuation for energy.”
“You mean, our Dr. Nachman?” Everett asked.
“Well, yeah,” Bob answered.
The four team guys stared at Bob. He looked back at them.
Mike continued, “So what you’re telling me, is that you created a perpetual motion machine here. With free energy.”
Bob shrugged again, “Well, not exactly free. There was a reason you needed the DOE clearances. We couldn’t just let any person stumble around inside the armor.”
“Is that why this facility still has electri
city?” Everett asked.
Mike thought about it, “Yeah, I kind of wondered about that myself.”
Bob nodded, “Actually, yes. And not just this facility. We put four of those on an aircraft carrier to replace the nuclear engine. Passed with flying colors. We were going to convert the entire fleet and put them in places like NORAD. That way, our military would have power in case of any attack.”
“How far along had you gotten?” Everett asked.
Bob shook his head, “We just completed trials on the aircraft carrier, and we were going to ramp up production for the rest of the country.”
“How long do they last?” Mike asked.
“I don’t know anything about that. You would have to ask Dr. Nachman about it. But, if you’re around Jamison, Mitchem, or Randall, they probably wouldn’t let him answer.”
Everett spoke, “That needs to end now.”
Mike nodded agreement, “yeah, I don’t know what’s going on, but when we’re finished with the recon, we’re all going to have a sit down and a chat about what’s going on around here, to include super-secret code word stuff as well.”
Bob looked at them both for a few seconds, then replied, “You may have problems convincing some people about that.”
Mike nodded, “Yeah, I get that feeling as well.”
The three were interrupted by smartass Weitz. “Ah, Bob, Chief Duggins, the first armor is armed and ready to go.” He wasn’t acting like a smartass now, though. Probably the carnage of the huge monster carcass moderated his responses.
“That won’t last for long,” Mike thought to himself.
“Which armor is it?” Everett asked.
“Armor 4,”
Everett looked over at Tom, “Tom, you’re up.”
Tom nodded and moved towards the mech armor with his rifle in hand. He wore his kit over his special mech armor uniform. Tom scrambled up the side and stepped into the cockpit. He stored his rifle and then grabbed the helmet and put it on. Lights flickered from the cockpit as he spooled up the electronics. Weitz had his head phones on and started talking Tom through an abbreviated start up sequence. He explained how to use the pulse laser and the mini-rail gun. As he was doing so, Smith and Sheffield would load what looked like magazines on the upper portion of the arm which held the mini-rail gun.