“Sir,” Kirt said.
“Somebody better have some good news for me,” he said, spinning in his chair to see Kirt, Andy, Riordan, and Howard. The pilots stood with their hands clasped behind their backs, their chests swollen and proud.
“Redemption incoming. Ready to rock!”
Noble didn’t need to turn to see the Viking-size engineer crossing the room. His loud footsteps gave his presence away.
“All RVAMPs and electromagnetic monitors are installed,” Ort said. He slapped the captain on his back. “We’re good to go, sir.”
“Assuming we can get the birds in the air,” Noble replied. “Kirt, how are the skies looking?”
The drone pilot ran a hand through his short blond hair and checked the monitor. After a pause he regained his composure and said, “Skies are still clear of contacts. The worst of the storm looks to have passed, too.”
The report gave Noble the confidence to take the mission to the next phase.
“Okay,” he said. “Riordan, Howard. You’re up.”
Both men acknowledged the order with a short nod. The burden they carried was evident in their hardened features. Succeed, and they would bring the Organics’ network crashing to the ground. Fail, and they would lose the planet forever.
Noble felt an overwhelming responsibility of his own, but like his men, he did his best to mask the feeling. Having been over it a million times in his mind, he was ready.
“Ort, get a few men to help you open the doors,” Noble said, moving from one man to the next. “Kirt, you and Andy prep your drone stations.”
Despite going over a mental checklist, he felt as if he had missed something. It dawned on him then that Diego still wasn’t back from escorting Sophie and her team to the Sunspot. Maybe he’s waiting out the storm, Noble thought.
Noble walked over to the cluster of monitors where Kirt worked to bring the drones online. Not wanting to raise alarm among his men, he kept the com channel offline. Leaning close to the pilot, he said, “Has anyone heard from Diego?”
Without looking up Kirt shook his head. “No, sir.”
Noble nodded. The fates of Sophie and Diego were out of his hands.
The grinding of metal on metal pulled Noble to the front of the hangar. A gust of wind speckled the concrete with dirt as two of his men opened the large doors. One of them yelled “Looks like it’s clearing off!”
Noble balled his hand into a fist. “Just keep it cracked, for now.”
The man on the right flashed a thumbs-up.
A white sun broke through the sky and spilled into the hangar. The armored X-90s glistened in the light. Noble touched the sleek curved edge of one of them, wishing he could climb into the cockpit and be there when they brought down the pole at McKinley.
“Everything’s prepped and ready to go,” Kirt said. “I’ve made contact with Lolo. The Surge just hit the alien poles a few minutes ago. We have two hours to take it down before it can reconnect. Now’s our chance, sir.”
Noble crossed his arms. “Get my birds in the air.”
* * *
The crack of gunfire stopped as Sophie rounded the first corner. Her heart stopped with it. The last shot faded away.
“No,” she mumbled. “No!”
“Sophie!” Emanuel yelled behind her. “Wait up!”
“We have to get to them!” she screamed. Her words echoed down the hallway. She pushed on, her body aching with every stride, her head pounding from a growing headache.
When she reached the door to the stairwell she paused long enough to withdraw Sergeant Overton’s .45 from the back of her belt. The metal, cold on her warm skin, felt powerful, and the memory of the man who had fought so valiantly gave her the extra boost she needed to twist the doorknob. She hadn’t seen eye to eye with the man, but his courage inspired her own.
Holding her breath, she opened the door and was hit by a blinding blue light. The intense glow looked like a portal to another world. It pulled her up the stairs, a beacon, drawing her forward.
With every step her mind raced with thoughts of the children, of Holly and the marines.
“Please,” she begged, “don’t let them be dead.”
By the time she reached the top of the stairwell Emanuel and Diego were right behind her. Diego squeezed past with his rifle extended.
Then she saw them.
Four small orbs. Floating at the far end of the chamber. A pack of Spiders huddled around them. On the ground in front of the orbs, Sophie could see something else. Two human bodies.
Holly . . .
Bouma . . .
She couldn’t see either of their faces, but she could see the blood leaking from their wounds.
Sophie collapsed to her knees, tears racing down her face. She raised the .45, pointing it toward the aliens. Her finger hovered over the trigger, but she didn’t fire.
A few feet ahead of her Diego and Emanuel stood silently, watching in shock.
“We can’t help them,” the soldier said.
Emanuel stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet as he tiptoed over to Sophie. He crouched down to eye level and said, “We have to leave.”
She glared at him, a vein bulging in her neck. She said, “We use the RVAMP. They can still be saved.”
Emanuel looked at her in disbelief. “That will kill you, Sophie. You can’t survive a blast at this range.”
She grabbed his wrist and squeezed it. “I don’t care. I won’t let them die.”
“No,” Emanuel said, shaking his head. “I won’t do it.”
The Spiders shrieked at the sound of Emanuel’s voice.
Diego took a step back, shouldering his rifle. “We have to move, guys. Pronto.”
Emanuel could see him saying something into his mini mike, but couldn’t make out the words.
“Command isn’t responding,” Diego replied. “Get down!” he yelled, raising his rifle and firing.
Sophie held Emanuel’s gaze as Diego emptied his magazine into the mass of aliens. The pulse rounds infuriated the hungry group.
Scratch, scrape, scratch, scrape.
Emanuel pulled his wrist free from her grasp and reached for the straps securing the RVAMP to his back. With trepidation he unfastened the device and laid it in front of them.
“Sophie. Please don’t do this,” he said. Tears flowed freely down his face.
“They’re coming!” Diego shouted between shots. “If you’re going to do something, you better do it fast!”
She managed a smile. “I love you, Emanuel.” Then she dropped the .45 onto the ground and pulled the RVAMP between them. His fingers intertwined with hers.
She forced their fingers down on the green button together. An invisible blast of electromagnetic energy exploded from the device. Pain raced through her system, lighting her nerves on fire. She twisted, jerked, and twitched uncontrollably. And then it was over. She felt her body slump into Emanuel’s arms and heard his screams as darkness overtook her.
* * *
The sun glimmered high in the afternoon sky. On the horizon, dark clouds of dust moved away from the base. The carcasses of several armored vehicles rested in the storm’s wake, their fading paint reflecting the abuse inflicted on them over the past few months.
Flanked by Kirt and Ort, the captain stood with his arms crossed, staring out over the tarmac. He watched Howard and Riordan climb into the cockpits of the X-90s. His team had maneuvered the jets and the drones around the wreckage and cleared a path for their takeoff.
Both pilots gave a thumbs-up as soon as the glass windshields locked into place above them. Then, with a ground-shaking roar they flared up the engines. Flames burst from their cylinder exhaust tubes.
Noble smiled and, in sync with Ort and Kirt, saluted the two pilots. They returned the gesture. The concrete rumbled a second later as the jets lur
ched forward.
The captain shielded his face from the heat and a powerful wind gust, watching through a fort of fingers as the jets raced down the tarmac and lifted into the air. With the planes clear, Andy launched the drones, controlling them manually from the command center.
Within a minute the sky was filled with the most beautiful sight Noble had seen in months—human air power.
The X-90s screamed across the skyline, streaking northwest, three drones following in their exhaust trails. And then they were just black specks. The other six drones peeled off in different directions.
Noble nodded, watching the final blip disappear on the horizon. With a deep breath he turned back to the hangar. Their first target, Mt. McKinley, was a little over 2,600 miles away. With jets capable of speeds up to 2,200 mph, the pilots would make it there in a little over an hour. That would give them at least thirty minutes to take down the pole before the Surge reconnected. Now all he had to do was wait.
Operation Redemption was officially underway.
When the rumble from the jets had completely vanished, Noble heard a distant voice. He spun to see a soldier running across the tarmac.
It was Diego, and he was screaming.
CHAPTER 26
THE ceiling had stopped rattling a few minutes before. The rumble from the X-90s and drones had waned away. Noble’s men had successfully launched, just narrowly avoiding the blast from the RVAMP, but Emanuel didn’t care. He held Sophie’s limp body in his arms, sobbing as he watched her life force drain away. He shook her softly, mumbling her name over and over.
She twitched, her chest heaving and torso jerking, just involuntary muscle spasms. Her frozen pupils stared in different directions, a result of the electrical current the nanobots had released when they were destroyed.
In the end, it was the device he had made that killed her. He would live with that guilt for the rest of his life.
He glanced up, tears cascading off his face and plopping onto the concrete. They were surrounded by a blue field of alien bodies; twisted and mangled from the RVAMP’s blast.
Beyond their corpses, the four floating orbs had crashed to the ground, their translucent skin melting around the child imprisoned inside.
Setting Sophie softly on the ground, Emanuel stood and raced over to them. As he approached he heard several stifled whimpers. But the sound wasn’t coming from the children. He stepped over the Spiders and found Holly and Bouma lying in the shadows of the hangar doors. They had been so close to escaping, the marine’s hands just feet away.
“Help the kids,” Holly choked. Emanuel quickly scanned her body. A large gash decorated her upper arm, but she would live. Bouma, on the other hand, was a wreck. He was unconscious, and when Emanuel saw his injuries he could see why. The Spiders had pierced his right thigh and upper left chest. His uniform was soaked in scarlet.
Holly dragged herself across the floor and applied pressure to Bouma’s leg. She glanced up at Emanuel, a curtain of bloody blond hair hanging from her face. “Go, Emanuel!”
He nodded and ran to the children. Jeff and David lay just feet away from each other, their eyes closed. Emanuel crouched down and felt David’s neck for a pulse. He found one—weak, but he was alive.
Then he moved to Jamie and Owen. Their small bodies were covered in blue goo. He pulled Jamie from the fluid first, removing the gunk from her mouth and face. Then he put her softly on the concrete and worked on Owen. They were both breathing, but their heartbeats felt weak.
He couldn’t wrap his mind around what had happened. Adrenaline kept him moving. Save the living, he thought. You can’t do anything for Sophie now. His eyes welled up again as he cleaned the children of alien slime.
It was hard to imagine that he and Holly were the only original members of the Biosphere team left. What had started out as a mission to save the world had turned into World War III, and he was the only one left unscathed.
Grinding metal rang out at the other end of the chamber, startling Emanuel. He glanced over his shoulder as Diego waved a squad of NTC soldiers into the room. They spread out under the Sunspot, their sleek black armor glimmering in the withering blue light.
“We need medical attention!” Emanuel shouted.
He looked up at the ship looming above them, his eyes focusing on the open door, and then suddenly he remembered. Why hadn’t he thought of it before?
The ship had a full medical facility, just like the Biosphere at Cheyenne Mountain. And inside there were a dozen or more cryo chambers, all designed for extended space travel. If he could get the children into them, he could basically freeze them until they reached Mars. Surely Dr. Hoffman and his team could save them. Maybe they could even save . . .
He looked back at Sophie’s limp body. A soldier leaned over her, his headlamp illuminating her pale face. Emanuel knew it was a long shot, but maybe she could be brought back.
Shocked into motion, Emanuel stood and snapped his fingers. “Diego,” he shouted. “I need your men to get these kids and Sophie into the cryo chambers inside the ship.”
“On it,” the soldier said.
“We need a medic, too,” Holly yelled. She pumped Bouma’s chest frantically. “He’s not breathing!”
One of the soldiers sprinted over to them and, dropping to a knee, opened a small black medical kit. He shooed Holly aside and began working on the marine.
Above them, the bank of red lights surrounding the door to the Sunspot blinked. The NTC soldiers rushed back and forth.
Emanuel’s vision blurred. He could hear someone yelling his name, but the words were indecipherable.
They were so fucking close! So close to leaving the damned planet and all the death behind. And now Sophie, his beloved Sophie . . . He couldn’t bear to watch the NTC soldier carry her body up the ramp into the Sunspot. His only hope rested with the cryo chambers.
Moving aside, Emanuel watched the other men scoop up Jamie and Owen. Their arms hung loosely over armored shoulders, their eyes detached, staring at nothing. Sucking in a long, measured breath he closed his eyes and then followed the group into the belly of the spaceship.
* * *
The mission clock on Captain Noble’s HUD read 1705.
Almost there, he thought.
He paced nervously behind Kirt’s monitor, his gaze shifting from the display to the hangar doors every few seconds. He still hadn’t heard back from Diego. The man had come tearing across the tarmac, screaming about Spiders that had attacked the Biosphere team. He’d deployed all but three of his men to help.
The wait for their return was eating him alive. He turned back to the monitors, anticipation building in his gut as he watched Howard’s and Riordan’s jets inch across the display. Marked Red 9 and Green 6, the two X-90s were now a finger’s length away from their target.
Thanks to Lolo, they had secured an encrypted feed with both pilots. The video streaming from the cockpits fed straight to Noble’s command center at Offutt. He saw what they saw. It was like being behind the wheel, without having to drive.
A coward’s game, he thought, wishing again he could be there himself.
Crackling white noise filled his earpiece. He flinched, waiting for the transmission. He hoped desperately for good news, but a long wave of static washed over the channel.
He didn’t have time for this. He reached up and tapped his helmet with an armored finger, as if it would help the weak com feed.
“Captain, this is Diego. Do you copy?” Diego repeated the message, his voice shaky and unsure.
“Yes. Yes. I’m here,” Noble replied. “Give me a full report.”
“Sir, there have been casualties. Doctor Sophie Winston appears to be . . .” he paused. “She appears to be dead, sir. The children are all severely injured. Doctor Rodriguez thinks they might be able to save them if we put them in the cryo chambers to preserve their bodies until the
y can find proper medical care.”
“My god,” Noble said, choking on his words.
“It’s bad, sir. And that’s not all. Doctor Brown and Corporal Bouma were injured. They should both live, but the other marine, Kiel, was killed inside the Sunspot. They woke up a fucking nest of aliens.”
Noble hammered his fist down, stopping just short of the table. He should have used the rover to scan the Sunspot, but after discovering the drones he’d simply left to plan the rest of the mission.
Once again he’d failed, and lives, precious lives, had been lost due to his negligence.
“Sir, they’re almost to Mount McKinley,” Kirt said.
Noble shook his thoughts away. He needed to focus. He couldn’t lose it now, not when Howard and Riordan were so close to their target.
“Diego, do what you can for the team. Have your men help them prepare the ship for launch and then get back here.”
“Roger.”
Noble filled his lungs with a deep breath, relieving some of the built-up anxiety. A bead of sweat trickled down his nose and landed on the stubble growing where his mustache had filled his face weeks earlier. He wanted desperately to run his finger across his face. It had always calmed him. Instead he moved to the seat next to Kirt. Crossing his arms, Noble said, “Get me the feed inside Red 9.”
Kirt reached to his left and swiped the screen. The monitor flickered and the view from Howard’s cockpit emerged. Clocking 2,200 mph, the jet screamed through the air. The skyline was a blur of orange light. A black speck glimmered on the horizon.
“That’s Riordan,” Kirt said, pointing at the dot.
Noble nodded. “How are our drones doing?” He turned to Andy, who sat a few feet away, his eyes plastered to a set of dual monitors.
“They’re flying on autopilot, for now,” Andy replied.
“Once they reach their targets, we’ll switch them back to manual. That’s where I come in,” Kirt said.
Data scrolling across the bottom of Howard’s monitor showed the pilot’s X-90 was at terminal velocity.
Orbs III Page 23