The Eagle's Last Stand

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The Eagle's Last Stand Page 9

by Gibson Morales


  “My own insurance policy,” she said, handing it over to Mitch. He'd know what to do from there.

  You like starting trouble with the people who fund us? Sledge asked over the mike hanging on their inner uniform collars. Speaker buds rested in their left ears.

  His timing in combat was first-class, but for bringing up unnerving questions, he could use some work. In this instance, questioning an operation they were already too deep in to reverse. That was Sledge.

  She chided herself for judging him. What right did she have, given what she was going to have to do to him?

  Except they both knew he had a point. Frederick's apparent willingness to smuggle them inside Jakarta required a major concession.

  According to intel, the Anunnaki mothership Jakarta contained a stockpile of gold, which, when combined with other materials powered their ships. Gold was still as valuable as ever and much more stable than cash. So, the idea that a ton of it could be resting only miles away had long tormented many power-hungry warlords and traders in Los Angeles.

  Frederick had invested into a project to try and seize that gold. A project involving the city's tainted underground tunnels, anti-radiation suits, excavation machinery, and a lot of time. Unsurprisingly, for years a handful of senators and high-ranking economic advisors had their eyes on Jakarta's treasure. To the degree that they often pressured Ham and the Snake-eaters to throw together an op with the sole purpose of acquiring it. Supposedly, they could fund the war effort with it. The very same gold cache that Dagos had just promised to Fred.

  Well, she'd face that storm when it came.

  Team Circa's performance was a more pressing concern. They'd been out of the loop for a couple years now. Their marksmanship skills would be rusty. Their mental fortitude maybe even shakier.

  Their cart shook beneath them as it cruised along the train tracks. She gripped her MP5 submachine gun to stop it from swinging on her shoulder. The former Metro line would bring them to the dig site in a few minutes.

  And so it did.

  The cart screeched to a halt and stopped at a roadblock. But the tunnel continued, a swath of excavation lights posted above, shovels, and bins full of dirt.

  She and the ten others there hopped out with their packs. Team Eagle, Team Circa, and Frederick's employees. Only Mitch remained aboard, his yellow anti-radiation suit making him look like more of an alien than the Anunnaki.

  Good luck, he buzzed, extending a hand.

  Thank you, she returned and shook it.

  I guess I'll know within the week if you're successful or not, huh?

  She appreciated his dark humor and met it with her own. No, you won't.

  The suit's blank screen covered his face, but she imagined him smiling.

  Then she joined the others as the cart reversed.

  For twenty minutes, they hiked along a newly placed track that resembled something from a Western.

  You get these from Metro? Sledge asked.

  Nah, salvaged them off the old ones at Griffith, Frederick's guy, Thomas, said. It felt strange that she'd never actually met him in person. Not without his suit on. Frederick had sent them with an envoy to put on their suits. Then they met his men at the tracks, already wearing theirs. All she knew was that he used to be a Green Beret.

  They passed a few helmets and shovels, but they'd kept the tunnel surprisingly tidy for a post-apocalyptic digging operation. Dagos chocked it up to all the safety standards and signs posted on cardboard along the walls. The threat of Anunnaki detection probably made everyone hyper-alert, even following rules that wouldn't affect their chances either way.

  Remember, this should put us in Sector R.

  At the end of the tunnel rested the cart, full of explosive charges. Everyone grabbed a couple and walked up a narrow set of stairs fashioned of wood. At the top, the first of Frederick's men stuffed his explosive into a small hole. Then the next passed his over. One by one, the man pushed them into the hole. Then another of Frederick's men handed Thomas a pole, which he used to drive the explosive charges in further.

  Everyone out.

  He didn't have to tell them twice. They cleared out of the blast radius, which Frederick had pegged to be no less than ten meters.

  The explosives would either open a passage to Jakarta or literally blow up in their faces. Supposedly, Frederick's engineers had planned this out so that the bombs would carve out a hollow spot in the Anunnaki's ship.

  A few seconds later, Thomas walked out of the stairway and joined them at their preplanned positions, five and five behind the niches in the walls on either side of the tunnel.

  Suddenly, the ground rumbled. Violent eruptions screwed with their ear drums. The tunnel spun around Dagos. The next thing she knew she was lying on her back. Her entire body throbbed like her nerve endings had been fried. She looked up to see a freshly formed opening in the tunnel. And seven Anunnaki soldiers, their palms leveled, primed to let loose.

  19

  The whining of pulse surges replaced the groans of the tunnel. Everyone scrambled for cover behind the cart and along the walls. Shouldering her MP5, Dagos zeroed in on an Anunnaki head and squeezed. For the first time in ages, she missed. By a whole lot.

  Instead of an Anunnaki head, the dirt above it burst into bits. She silently cursed the cumbersome anti-radiation suit.

  We need to get in there, she shouted into the mike clipped on the inside of her collar. Once inside the mothership, they wouldn't need their suits anymore.

  And then Raymond's submachine gun kicked straight up, still punching out rounds. He stumbled backward and his back kissed the floor. His suit deflated as air rushed from a hole above his stomach.

  Speaking volumes of their professionalism, no one missed a beat. They remained poised in tactical crouches and continued plugging away.

  Dagos's senses sharpened, and time seemed to slow, every gunshot, every pulse surge lasting seconds. Drawing a deep breath, Dagos fixed her sights on one Anunnaki and dispatched it. A red mist burst from its left eye. Immediately, two grabbed it by the arms and dragged it out of sight as the rest kept them at bay.

  A split-second later, another Anunnaki collapsed as a bullet mushroomed in its skull. As if of a single mind, the remaining trio scooped up their dead and pulled back. They must've realized they had their hands full.

  “Change of plans?” Sledge mocked.

  Dagos pumped a fist for them to wait, and everyone stood by, watching the Anunnaki worm their way into the darkness. A few thoughts stopped her from pursuing them. The absence of Nebirian combat shields and the way they had stood as concentrated targets concealed an unsatisfying truth. They'd clearly lucked out and caught those Anunnaki off-guard.

  Looks like the months of planning paid off, Thomas radioed quietly. Then, Is everyone okay?

  Wilson squatted beside his fallen teammate. Raymond didn't make it. No time to grieve him, though.

  That settled that. Performing on the battlefield after a long hiatus was hard enough. Dagos couldn't imagine mourning the loss of your friend on top of that. She respected his determination. If Wilson needed to cry later, she'd gladly let him do it on her shoulder.

  The nine of them rose together, grabbed their gear and jogged into the tunnel. A few meters in, Dagos and the others tore off the headpieces of their suits. Then the rest. It was nice to escape the over-sized clothes. Even nicer to be wearing the proper gear for a soldier of her caliber. Frederick had given each of them a not-exactly-new set of combat gear. A helmet, camo'd shirt and pants, Kevlar, firearms with plenty of ammo, and an assortment of odds and ends to help them along the way. Plus, the designators. All compliments of those invested in the search for Jakarta's lost treasure.

  She flicked on her MP5's flashlight and donned a pair of night-vision goggles. With a blink, an eerie green chamber materialized ahead. Giant vines ending in shriveled sinew hung from the ceiling. The walls were deep obsidian bone-like grooves. An array of decagons and tiny geometric patterns filled out the floo
r.

  The fact that so much of the area was dark hinted that the Anunnaki didn't use it much. Otherwise the walls would've lit up automatically. As Wilson cast a pool of light around with his flashlight a few bats flew away.

  Prioritizing stealth was a losing game. Because if the Anunnaki followed standard operating procedure, they would activate their infrared vision in the dark lighting.

  Dagos breathed in the humid air, listening for any hint of incoming Tangos. All she heard were their own footsteps and a distant humming that was expected for an Anunnaki base.

  They entered an antechamber that resembled the inside of a giant, carved out pumpkin on Halloween. Hunks of pulp dangled from the ceiling and she felt the floor squish under ever step.

  “This is where we split. Part of me wants to join you for the ride, but a job's a job,” Thomas said, motioning to the rest of Frederick's men. Guns first, they proceeded through a large, triangular tunnel.

  “Hope you find what you're looking for,” she said, more because she wanted the Anunnaki to lose their gold than Frederick to score.

  The only thing the mercenary's men needed to go forward with their quest had been an assurance the US government wouldn't contend their claim and an insurance policy of sorts. Frederick didn't want any of this traced to him if it failed. That's where she came in. If the Anunnaki caught them, everyone would say they were here as part of an operation led by the Eagle. Not Frederick or the other investors. She just hoped it didn't come to that.

  She led Sledge and Team Circa up another triangular tunnel, this one filled with mounds of the pulp. Their rifle lasers traced every rat and cockroach that moved. Because everything that moved threatened to be an enemy.

  Finally, they got away from the piles of goop and began crossing a narrow walkway in an oval-shaped chamber. Below them on either side, dozens of liquids coursed through carved out channels, mixing then separating again as large tanks and orbs absorbed gases or heated portions of the stream.

  Having memorized the relevant sections of Jakarta, she knew they still had a good twenty minutes before they reached Sector U, Jakarta's prison area. Of course, that assumed no resistance. She fully expected the Anunnaki to throw their best at them.

  As if on cue, something big and metal materialized at the end of the bridge. Everyone's footsteps slowed. Dagos took a knee and raised a fist, her designator gleaming in the NVG's view. The others followed suite. After a couple of seconds, the outline of a hunter drone formed before them.

  Dagos guessed the only reason it hadn't blasted them was because it was trying to determine if she was among them. Her NVGs were the only thing keeping her face obscured.

  “We got another behind us,” Sledge said.

  Dagos didn't bother looking over her shoulder.

  “Permission to use my grenade launcher,” from Wilson.

  Suddenly, a painfully white light bombarded her eyes. She shut them and turned away. They couldn't get any farther if this continued. Not unless she removed her NVGs and revealed herself.

  “Granted,” she said. “Take out the one in front of us. We'll make a run for it.”

  At the mechanical poof and subsequent explosion, she looked to see the drone drop to the streams of liquid below. Immediately, she rose up and broke into a sprint. Then flames blossomed on her right. The liquids must've been flammable. Hesitating at the heat, she closed her eyes again at the blinding white light. On impulse, she flipped up her NVGs and dashed ahead.

  Until the Anunnaki recognized her, they'd hold off on killing them. Then she noticed the hunter drone floating on her left.

  Its weapons systems hummed. She knew it wouldn't shoot her. The others were all fair game.

  “Take it out,” she cried.

  “Shit's jammed,” Wilson yelled.

  Dagos answered that with a three-round burst of her MP5 at one of the drone's blasters. In unison, the rest of her squad both targeted and eviscerated them. But as quickly as they broke off, they twisted in the air and remained afloat.

  The problem with hunter drones wasn't hurting them. It was destroying them. Because if part of a drone remained, it could rework itself into a weapon.

  “It's trying to kill you all,” she said, waving them on before her.

  Wilson and Jack barreled past, but Sledge grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her before him. “It doesn't have to kill you,” he growled.

  Suddenly, her cheeks burned in shame. She'd hoped to stall by making herself the primary target. An amateur idea. All the drone needed to do was take out her legs and she was as good a prisoner as Courtney. She whipped out a smoke grenade, tore the pin, and lobbed it behind them. The gush of red gas would buy them a minute.

  “Still jammed?” Dagos asked.

  “Crappy thing!”

  So yes.

  “Hit it with everything then,” Dagos said as they skidded to a halt in the next capsule. In a series of well-choreographed motions, the four-man squad pivoted around and began mowing down the drone. In seconds, their barrage tore the drone to shreds of floating metal. But each of those shreds twitched in the air then began morphing, gears and panels shifting for maximum killing efficiency.

  Dagos lowered her rifle and raised her fist. The gunfire ceased. If they made those pieces any smaller, they'd be too tiny even for their sharpshooting skills. And there'd be too many flying shards to survive.

  “Get out of here. We'll handle this,” Wilson said, spraying the drone pieces with lead.

  “You're disobeying,” Dagos said.

  “With all due respect, you were never my superior. Wish you had been, though.”

  Jack had already begun dicing up the pieces with his MP5.

  “One last thing,” Wilson said between well-timed bursts. “Could you really have healed us with the Conifer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Time to go,” Sledge said. She knew that urgent tone. She'd grown used to hearing it as a VIP. She nodded and darted onward with him. The wall in front of them was exactly as she'd expected. Her MP5's flashlight shone on the deep grooves that formed a grid over it. Deep enough to climb.

  Then she remembered something. Turning around, she called out to Wilson, “Wait. Toss us your designators. We—”

  “No time,” Sledge barked. She relented and entrenched her fingers into the niches in the wall one hand at a time. As soon as she reached the top, she'd help Wilson.

  She'd barely scaled a dozen feet when he detonated the grenade, still jammed in the chute. For a moment, she hesitated, the explosion's heat racing through her protective gear. An image of Courtney flashed in her mind, reminded her that this was less about her own life than that little girl's. Her solace returned, and they resumed their climb.

  Forty feet up, her hands met the cold surface of Sector T. They still had a way to go before they reached Sector U, but they'd made progress.

  She extended her arm to gain leverage, when something cold locked around her wrist. The raw clutches of an Anunnaki.

  20

  “I'm insulted,” Overseer Drekken said as they came to. His tall gray form materialized overhead. Dagos's head was so groggy, his voice felt as loud as gunfire. “Such a precious asset in our possession and you only deploy a handful of soldiers.”

  Sledge looked like he was waking up from a good dream. “Let me loose and I'll insult you real nice.”

  The two of them were trapped together in one of the Anunnaki's sunken prison cells. Thick, warm air and light shining off every inch of the wall constantly taxed a prisoner's senses. They still had most of their gear, but no guns.

  Dagos knew from stories that this overseer was both really cocky and really lazy not to bother removing their tactical uniforms. On the other hand, they owned nothing that could break through the cell's resonance field.

  “Such luck to have caught you in addition to my other prisoner,” Overseer Drekken said, his eyes roaming all over Dagos's body like he couldn't wait to begin probing her. “The Sinsers themselves will probably p
romote me to a regional commander.”

  “I doubt it,” Dagos said. “Regional commanders have to be alive.”

  The Anunnaki's smile was full of indifference. “Get your kicks in now. Soon we'll find out where your friends went. I'd assume they were going after the treasure of Jakarta, but who could be stupid enough to believe that.”

  He must've meant Frederick's team.

  “No one believed in aliens until you showed up,” Dagos spat.

  “You mean to tell me you can't even find our teammates inside your own ship?” Sledge taunted.

  A tiny part of her wondered how long they could keep up their defiant attitude before they succumbed to the obvious.

  The Anunnaki shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “It's a big ship and some of it no longer works. But your earthling brain probably can't understand how all those variables affect the big picture.”

  “Nah, it's not that. It's just that we humans don't care about little insignificant crap. Most of us don't anyways.”

  Dagos sensed he was referring to politicians and held in a laugh. The silver lining to all this was that maybe she wouldn't have to betray Sledge after all.

  The Anunnaki flexed his fingers, and Dagos half-expected him to blast them. Instead, he drew a deep breath. “No reason to drag this out then.”

  He gave a snarl and a screech. Nebirian.

  A few seconds later, he turned around and stretched an arm out as if to grab something. Dagos turned to Sledge and was fairly certain he mouthed, We've really screwed the pooch.

  A second figure fell along the top of their prison pit. Dagos's stomach bottomed out. She couldn't believe her eyes. But even through the less than crystal clear resonance field, the brown hair, the heart-shaped face, and the skinny arms were unmistakable.

  “Courtney,” she said, her breath thickening.

  At once, the girl in the blue dress leaned in, overlooking their pit. “Dagos? Is that really you? You guys actually came to rescue me...”

 

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