Blue Plague: Hope: Book Seven

by Watson, Thomas A

  Putting his goggles on and pulling a shemagh over his exposed face, “See you on the ground,” Bruce yelled before tossing the intercom headset into his seat.

  Patting the pistol on his thigh, “Your ass better hit the ground with me and not before me,” Gene warned as an alarm sounded and the ramp started to lower.

  Moving to the edge of the ramp, Bruce looked out over the cloud layer below them in the moonlight. ‘It really seems we should be able to land on those clouds’ he thought as the red light started blinking. As the jump master moved up beside them, Bruce patted his gear one last time.

  “Go!” the jumpmaster yelled as the red light turned off and a green light came on.

  Diving out the back, Bruce spread his arms and legs, leveling out his fall. The wind ripped at his gear as Bruce grinned, watching the clouds get closer. Flipping over on his back, Bruce looked up to see the plane leaving and all the team above him. Making a quick count, Bruce flipped back over relieved, seeing that everyone had made it out of the plane.

  Seeing the clouds getting closer, Bruce’s body tightened up. ‘They always look so solid’ he thought, rushing at the clouds at over a hundred miles an hour. Hitting the clouds, the moonlight started fading fast. Glancing at his altimeter, he noticed the cloud bank was higher than reported.

  The world around him was suddenly dark as Bruce fell below the cloud layer. Lowering his night vision goggles, Bruce saw a laser shooting up to the sky. Knowing that was the beacon that the Pathfinders were sending, Bruce guided his fall toward the UV laser.

  Looking at his altimeter again, Bruce flared his body more and started counting in his head. Reaching back, Bruce pulled his chute and heard the chute deploy. Feeling his body yanked upright, Bruce looked up to see the huge yellow Batman symbol on his black chute.

  Sighing with relief, Bruce grabbed the toggles and steered his chute toward the beacon. Seeing the Pathfinder team, Bruce pulled down hard and started dropping fast. When he was two hundred feet off the ground, he relaxed his pull, stopping his fast descent and glided toward the beacon.

  With his night vision goggles on, Bruce had no depth perception and just guessed from experience. Bringing his legs up till his boots touched snow, Bruce pulled down on the chute, dropping his feet through the snow.

  As he planted in the snow, all forward momentum stopped, sprawling Bruce face first in the snow. Jumping up and grabbing his lines before his chute plowed him through the snow, “I fucking hate snow jumps,” he grumbled, weaving his arms around the chute lines.

  Seeing a chute blow past him, Bruce turned to see someone dragged through the snow, plowing a trench. Glad that wasn’t him, Bruce continued pulling his chute down. Tying his chute up and throwing it down, he pulled off his backpack from the front of his body and dropped it. Watching the pack disappear in the snow, he pulled off his gun bag, pulling out his SCAR.

  Putting the sling across his chest, Bruce dropped his chute pack and dug his backpack out of the snow before putting it on. Pulling out the rest of his gear, and cussing in his mind about snow, Bruce turned around to see the last of the team touching the ground.

  Turning on his radio and pressing the mic, “Radio check. Over.”

  “Good copy,” Mike’s voice sounded in his ear. “Was that you that plowed a fifty-yard trench through the snow?” Mike asked.

  Adjusting the ear mic, “Negative,” Bruce chuckled, adjusting the throat mic as he billowed fog out with each breath.

  A figure ran over to him. Well, more like slugged their way over through the snow. “Sir, Pathfinder One. Your team is down,” the figure reported, breathing hard and then turned away, heading toward the beacon.

  Grabbing his chute and trudging around in the waist deep snow, Bruce looked around at the others. He groaned since he could only see the upper halves of their bodies. “This is going to suck a dick a mile long,” Bruce said, dragging his tied-up chute behind him as he followed Pathfinder One.

  Happy to reach the treaded path of Pathfinder, Bruce turned around, seeing figures moving toward him with many whispered swears floating over the snow. “Keep your bitching down,” Gene’s whispered voice came over the radio. “It’s just fucking snow, little girls.”

  “Huh, hate to see what you’d call big snow,” Bruce mumbled, turning around and following the treaded path to the Pathfinder team.

  It took the team fifteen minutes to gather around Bruce and the Pathfinders. When Gene walked up, he was covered in snow. “You roll around in this shit playing?” Bruce asked.

  “Eat me,” Gene barked in a low voice. “Damn chute drug me through the fucking snow.”

  As the team gathered around, Bruce keyed his mic. “By teams, single file,” he said. “I know it’s not protocol, but we don’t need to bust four different paths through this shit. When the compound is in sight, we’ll break down to teams.” Team One groaned as the rest of the teams smiled; Team One had to make the path.

  Keeping distance from each other, the group wormed their way down the valley. It took almost an hour to reach the compound and everyone was huffing, really wanting to get back down south. Walking off the path and instantly buried up to his chest, Bruce moved up beside Gene, pulling out his thermal binoculars. “Have to say, I like being in the command group for that fucking hike,” Bruce mumbled, trying to catch his breath.

  Panting, Gene lifted his own binoculars, “Before we play in the snow again, we are finding snowshoes.”

  “Fuck that, let’s just wait till the shit melts before attacking next time or find a tropical island to invade,” Bruce said scanning the area. Reaching down, he hit his mic, “Base, we are in position.”

  “That walk looked like it really sucked,” Mike’s voice came over the radio.

  Putting his binoculars up, “Mike, don’t start,” Bruce warned. “Is the south emergency exit unlocked?”

  “The boys unlocked it when the Pathfinders landed, in case they needed a place to run,” Mike reported.

  Grabbing his chute that he was pulling through the snow, “Copy, moving to entrance,” Bruce called out.

  “Dude, you’re ten feet from it,” Mike called back. “Your first two groups passed it.”

  Freezing and with only his shoulders above the snow in the trench the teams before him trudged, Bruce looked around and only saw snow. “You must be smoking crack,” Bruce said, keying his mic.

  “Bruce, it’s ten feet to your right,” Mike told him. Looking to his right, Bruce only saw a slight bump in the snow. Plowing his way off the path, Bruce moved over to the bump in the snow. “You’re right beside it,” Mike said over the radio.

  “Mike, I dig down, I better find a fucking door,” Bruce said, waving the team over.

  “It’s there,” Mike said confidently.

  Grabbing his chute and backing away, Bruce pointed, “Dig down, Mike said the entrance is there.”

  As most of the team fanned out, a group used their hands and dug down through the snow as Gene moved up beside Bruce. “I can’t believe you’re dragging your chute through this,” Gene grumbled looking around. “We left ours. Chutes are disposable on combat drops, Bruce.”

  “Not mine,” Bruce said looking around. “It took six months for them to make that one for me. We won’t even talk about how much it cost.”

  Turning around, “Leave sentiment at the base, Bruce,” Gene told him. “It’s gear.”

  “Bitch, keep on and I’ll make your ass drag this shit through the snow, I’m the boss,” Bruce popped off with huffing steam.

  Not wanting to get in a fight with Bruce in the deep snow, Gene turned around and moved away from Bruce. Keeping a watch as the group continued digging, a small voice sounded in Gene’s ear mic, “Gene, it’s Danny. Momma bought that chute for daddy for his birthday. It’s the only one he will use.”

  Looking over his shoulder, Gene saw Bruce watching the digging. “I’m on your team frequency. Daddy’s on his and the base frequency,” Danny said.

  Keying his mic, “H
ow the hell did you know what we were talking about?” Gene asked.

  “Dad has a bad habit of leaving his throat mic on,” Danny told him and Gene chuckled silently.

  “He always has, Danny,” Gene smiled. “You don’t know how many times I’ve had to tell him to turn the damn thing off.”

  “Just thought you should know. Base, Out,” Danny said signing off.

  Trudging back to Bruce, Gene grabbed the chute. “I have it,” Bruce said turning around.

  “Bitch, I have the chute and I’ll carry it back for you,” Gene snapped, looking at the digging team. Seeing the side of a small building, he sighed with relief. “I was going to beat the shit out of Mike if he had us dig up this whole valley floor,” Gene said as the team started digging out around a large metal door that looked like it belonged on a submarine.

  “You would’ve stood in line,” Bruce grinned.

  Ted and Carl moved over to Gene, “He let you carry it?” Ted asked surprised and Gene nodded. “We’ve been trying to get him to let us carry it since we dropped.”

  Swiveling his head scanning around them, “He doesn’t want you two to lose his shit,” Gene grinned.

  “Like we would,” Carl huffed.

  “Ready to try the door, sir,” a man on the digging team stood up and announced out of breath.

  Moving toward the door, “Let’s get the fuck out of the white shit,” Bruce growled, moving to the door as Gene grabbed his arm.

  “Commander, remember?” Gene said. “You’re in the middle, not the front.” As Bruce looked away mumbling, Gene nodded at the digging team and they formed up on the door. “Entry team, radios on, base will guide us in,” Gene said as the first man turned the spinning wheel, unlocking the door.

  “You know, a four-dollar latch on the inside would have really fucked our day here,” Bruce announced.

  Looking over his shoulder, “Good thing the government doesn’t believe in them,” Gene said.

  “Just saying,” Bruce said, watching the entry team ease through the door. “That’s why I have manual locks on everything at the base.”

  Waving the second team in, Gene grinned, “You’re old school like me, Bruce. Nothing gives a feeling of security like a bolt of metal that must be moved by hand.”

  “Entry team, door ahead opens to a straight hall with branching halls thirty meters in,” Jake’s voice sounded over the radio. “Side halls are storage and empty of personnel.”

  When half the team was in, Bruce and Gene headed through the door. Metal stairs opened up immediately inside the door leading down. Gene threw one of the chute straps over his shoulder as he followed Bruce down the stairs.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, they saw the open door and a long ass hallway stretching out before them. “Think I should leave bread crumbs?” Carl asked behind them.

  “Wouldn’t do any good,” Bruce said walking through the door. “Rats would eat them.”

  Carl started looking around at the floor, “Bruce, you better be kidding about rats.”

  “Dude, we are underground where it’s warm,” Bruce chuckled. “Where do you think those scientists got the rats to feed the blues they are trying to teach?”

  Ted stepped closer to Carl, “You better man up,” he whispered. “The other guys find out you’re scared of rats, they will torment you.”

  Nodding, “Yeah,” Carl huffed and looked up. “If they do give me shit, I’m asking Buffy to shank ‘em.”

  Chapter 2

  Reaching the end of the hall, the point team opened a door leading into a giant spiral metal staircase going down. On the far wall, Level 1 was painted. Team one moved to the door that opened on that level. Team two led the others down the stairs, stopping at the door leading into level two.

  After leaving team three at the third level, Bruce led team four to the last level. Reaching the last door, Bruce keyed his mic, “Team four, breaching,” he said as the first man opened the door.

  The team filed in with the command group following. With Jake guiding them through the winding wide hallways, they finally reached the security room tucked back in a far corner. The point man felt a pat on his shoulder and opened the door, rushing inside with four others and leaving the rest of the team in the hallway.

  Five men, who were sitting at the monitors, suddenly were looking down a slew of gun barrels as Bruce walked in casually, followed by Gene. “Thank you, gentlemen,” Bruce said, walking over to the Homeland agent, the only one wearing a suit. “I’m taking over this facility,” he said, stopping in front of the agent.

  With his hands over his head, the agent was visibly trembling, looking at the patches on the shoulder that showed an omega symbol. Looking up at Bruce, he almost passed out, “B-B-Bruce,” he stuttered.

  Smiling as he chuckled, “Glad to know you watch our programs,” Bruce said, as others in the team came around, zip-tying the men and searching them.

  As one of the team kicked the agent in the back of the knee to make him get down, “You’re going to kill us,” the agent accused.

  “Quite possible,” Bruce said, moving over to the bank of monitors. “Jake, let me have the monitors,” he said keying his radio. Suddenly, the monitors blinked and on three screens Bruce saw his teams in the stairwell waiting at the doors that, just a second ago, had shown the stairs empty. The five men on the floor gasped.

  “Please don’t kill us, sir,” one of the soldiers on the floor cried out.

  Glancing down at the soldier, “You have a good chance of living through this,” Bruce said turning away. “Depends on what we have watched you do to the others here.”

  Gene stepped up, “Team One is ready,” he said and Bruce nodded. “Team One, go,” Gene said in his radio. On the screen, Team One filed in. Looking at another screen, Bruce watched the twenty-five troops file down one hall and start going in rooms. Watching the progression of the team spread on several monitors, Bruce nodded his head again.

  “Team Two, breach,” Gene called over the radio and like before, they watched Team Two start clearing rooms. On the first level, Team One was pulling people out of rooms and lining them in the hallways.

  Watching Team One from the security room, they started to move the people to a large area that housed vehicles in front of a large bay door. “Team Two needs the elevators,” Gene said behind him. “This is really easy when very few of your targets have weapons. Have to say, I hope other areas we attack take weapons away from those inside.”

  “Just shows you what gun control is all about,” Carl chuckled, “Turning those without guns into bitches for those with guns.”

  Keying his mic, “Jake, turn on the elevators,” Bruce said, then looked over his shoulder. “Team Four, clear the level.” The five men who’d taken the room turned around and joined the rest of the team in the hall, leaving only Ted, Carl, and Gene in the room with Bruce.

  Not turning away from the monitors, “Take the leash off of Team Four,” Bruce said and Gene keyed his mic.

  Like a well-oiled machine, the teams sealed a hallway and quietly cleared the rooms, waking the occupants. Informing the occupants that noise could get them shot, the teams led them out into the hallway. When all the rooms were emptied, the occupants were escorted to a collection point, as the rest of the team moved to another hallway.

  “How close are the choppers?” Bruce asked keying his mic.

  “Three hours, give or take ten minutes,” Mike answered.

  Shaking his head, “That’s why I didn’t want them launched until we’d breached,” he mumbled. “Now, I’m on a timeline.”

  “Hey, bitch! We don’t like you that far away without a means to escape,” Mike shouted over the radio.

  Groaning, Bruce reached down and flipped his radio to push to talk. “Thanks a lot, guys,” he said looking over his shoulder.

  With a big grin, Gene patted his back. “You would think, as many times as I yelled at you for that, you would start to make damn sure that switch was in the right place,”
Gene laughed as Team One finished the last of the living quarters.

  “Suck me sideways,” Bruce said, watching Team Four hit the labs on this level. Holding up his arm and looking at his watch, “Barring some unforeseen catastrophe, we should be ready long before the choppers get here,” Bruce said, dropping his arm.

  Looking around, “I’m glad the boys were able to pull this off,” Gene said. “If we would’ve had to make a hostile breach, it would’ve cost dearly.”

  Watching Team Two herd groups to the elevator, “Nope, I would’ve nuked their ass,” Bruce said. With Jake, Matt, and the group of geeks guiding the teams over the radio, with the exception of the five men laying on the floor, in thirty minutes the entire compound was standing in front of the massive bay door on the ground level.

  Keying his mic, “Team Four, send someone to take these up,” Bruce called out. When someone came in to take the men, Bruce followed them out, with Gene picking up Bruce’s chute. Walking down the hall, they saw doors with chalk marks on them, showing what rooms had been cleared.

  Stopping at an intersection, Bruce let the five men pass by with their escort. Turning down a hall with several closed doors and no chalk marks, Bruce brought up his weapon, getting an unnatural feeling from the hallway. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Gene asked dropping the chute. “Jake told the teams that these rooms are empty of personnel.”

  “I’m clearing rooms,” Bruce shot over his shoulder. “I’m going to do something on this fucking trip, after plowing through that much snow.”

  Ted and Carl ran up to him bringing up their weapons as Gene dropped his pack as they had and joined Bruce. Stacking up outside a door, Bruce felt Ted pat his back and tested the door handle. Feeling it give, Bruce threw the door open and rushed inside.

  Shelves of supplies lined a large room as the others rushed in behind Bruce. Looking at the shelves, “Lab supplies,” Bruce said lowering his rifle. Walking back out, they stacked on the next door and found an office.

  Stacking up on door number six, Bruce reached out trying the handle and it didn’t budge. With his heart racing, Bruce looked down at the door and saw a key slot in the handle. All the other doors on this level had magnetic card readers mounted beside them to lock the door.