Enemy Lines: Navigator Book One

by SD Tanner

  It was his turn to give her a look of complete disbelief. “What are you saying? We’re on our own? Where’s the National Guard? We don’t have the resources to deal with this level of crisis. This isn’t what we’re designed to do.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir,” she replied worriedly. Leaning closer to him, she added quietly, “But what if this is a terrorist attack? What if the bad guys put something in the water that’s making people crazy? What if this is the result of a smart bomb of some sort?”

  He knew she’d just voiced her greatest fear that their country was under attack in a way they couldn’t defend against. Their own people were killing one another with no concern about the consequences. It made no sense and he couldn’t rule out a terrorist attack either. “It’s plausible, but I’m not sure it matters.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Glancing back at the television screen, he noticed it was now only displaying the emergency broadcast image. “It doesn’t matter why people are killing one another. All we need to know is they are, and they’re doing it in numbers we can’t respond to. We haven’t got enough cops to deal with this.”

  She nodded. “It’s not just that. I don’t think the ones we have are immune either. We’ve heard them attacking one another on the radio. No one can be trusted.”

  “What’s the emergency procedure?”

  “For this?” She asked in surprise. “There isn’t one. You’re talking about large numbers of people randomly killing one another for no reason. All of our procedures assume there’s a level of government left standing that can implement a state of emergency, but if the attackers are randomly across the entire population, then the whole system falls apart. When I was able to contact the Chief, he was trying to contact the State Police and National Guard. The Emergency Operations Center should be up and running, but I haven’t heard whether we’ve managed to get through to them yet. If I don’t hear from them, then it means we don’t have State Police, an Army or a National Guard.”

  Their protocols in a state of emergency assumed at least one of the many levels of government and protective forces would be intact. It was a reasonable assumption, but it didn’t work if they couldn’t trust their own people. For the first time since the attacks started, he began to worry about his wife. He needed to talk to her and he pulled his phone from his pocket.

  Jo watched him and said bluntly, “That won’t work. The network is jammed.”

  Tapping the screen to call his wife, he held the phone to his ear. All he heard was the irritating sharp beep of an engaged tone. “I need to go home and check she’s okay. She should be in our apartment in Sawmill in the city.”

  Jo nodded curtly. “Okay, but take a rookie with you.”

  “What do you expect me to do out there?”

  The queue of people needing to talk to Jo had been growing from the moment he’d started their conversation. Clearly becoming distracted, she replied, “I don’t know. Just…just try to serve and protect…and stay in radio contact. I’ll let you know as soon as I get some answers from somewhere.”

  Continuing to dial Jenny on his cell phone, he left the precinct office area and headed to the locker room, looking for a gun and a vest. Every locker was open, and bits of kit were all over the floor, where there were a dozen people picking at the discarded items. Deciding he could live without a vest, he walked across the hall to the armory. The window was open, but no one was there and it was immediately obvious why. The usually packed shelves were empty and he guessed they had nothing left. With so many cops out on the streets, and no weapons left at the precinct, they were vulnerable to attack. Fortunately, he kept his own private arsenal in his Chevrolet Malibu.

  Walking back to the locker room, he boomed, “I have my own personal vehicle and weapons. I need a rookie with me.”

  All faces turned to stare, and a young woman strode towards him. “I’m still in basic training.”

  “Can you handle a gun?”

  “Yeah, my Dad taught me how to do that.”

  He looked the dark haired girl up and down, and decided she looked fit and strong. “Okay, then let’s go.”

  Following him down the corridor towards the parking lot, she easily kept pace while he felt slightly winded. “Where are we going?”

  Other than finding Jenny, he wasn’t sure what he could do on the streets. Jo had told him to serve and protect, but he didn’t know what that would entail. “I don’t know until we get out there and see what’s really going on.”

  When they reached his Malibu, she said, “I’m Jasmine, but everyone calls me Jas.”

  Opening the trunk to his car, he lifted the base, revealing a Glock in its holster, an AR-15 and a Remington 870 shotgun hidden inside. Strapping the Glock to his hip, he handed Jas the AR-15 and ammo. “I’m Harry Jones, but everyone calls me Jonesy.”

  CHAPTER FIVE: Twilight Flight (John)

  He hated being forced to arrive at the airport two hours in advance, then having his possessions shoved down a dark hole, being frisked or x-rayed, and left to wait on an uncomfortable chair, eating over-priced food and drinking coffee from a cardboard cup. Unfortunately flying across the country came with his job as a retail specialist. As the Operations Quality Assessor, he travelled to all their outlets to check planograms, stock, staff performance and customer satisfaction levels. The excessive travel demands meant his wife and three kids got to live in suburban luxury in Philadelphia, while he moved from one hotel to the next.

  Where he’d gained nearly a hundred pounds eating hotel food, his wife, Lily, was still a dark haired beauty. When they’d married, he’d looked like a well-built, blond-haired linebacker, but those days were long gone. Back then he could pull any woman he wanted, but now he spilled over his narrow seat, and the redheaded woman next to him was actively trying not to touch any part of him. He didn’t blame her, his shirt was pitted with stains from his lunch, and even with the cool air pumping from the overhead vent, he was sweating profusely. Thinking of Lily made his mouth pull into a grimace. He was pretty sure she was seeing someone else. On his most recent trip home, he’d noticed a collection of new lingerie drying in their shared bathroom. It was lacy and red with matching stockings, and it certainly hadn’t been worn for his benefit.

  Part of him wondered if he should lose some weight to try and rekindle their marriage. A larger part of him thought she should be grateful for the lifestyle he worked so hard to provide. Resentment bubbled up deep inside his chest, and he stared out of the window miserably. Being a regular flyer, he always requested to sit over the wing of the plane to give himself slightly more room. He found getting in and out of his chair embarrassing, so he always booked a window seat. The chair was too small for him to move his body in any way, and he turned his head further to stare across the wing of the plane. Recoiling in surprise, he banged his shoulder into the redheaded woman next to him. She gave a small indignant squeal, and then began to mop furiously at her dress.

  “Be careful,” she said sharply.

  He turned to look at her heavily made up face, and realized his abrupt movement had made her spill her coffee down the front of her green dress. It was a very low cut number, and the contours of her rounded white breasts disappeared under the clingy fabric. He thought he saw a flash of red lace and it reminded him of Lily.

  “Err, sorry, I thought I saw something outside.”

  “Well, you’re looking at something right now, you pervert.”

  “No, no, I was just looking at what you were doing.”

  “And copping a look,” she replied archly.

  The flash of red lace had only brought Lily to his mind, but he couldn’t tell the woman that had made his stomach turn. Lily embodied everything that was failing in his life. He was fat, unattractive to women, his wife was screwing around, and all of it was making him feel utterly inadequate. The redheaded woman next to him might not find him attractive, but he didn’t want her either.

  Sighing, he returned to loo
king out of the window. The flat steel wing reached into the distance, and there was nothing other than puffy, white clouds beyond it. He couldn’t see the ground below and he found the view boring. Whatever he thought he’d seen was either gone, or it was never there in the first place. He thought he might as well check out the inflight entertainment, and as he fumbled with his headsets, a movement outside the window caught his attention again. This time he definitely saw something. It was black and it moved across his window with lightning speed.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “What was what?” The woman replied tersely.

  “I saw something go past my window.”

  The woman sighed irritably. “I don’t know. I can’t see past you.”

  Her reference to his size didn’t go unnoticed, and he tried to sink lower into his chair, but his knees banged awkwardly into the seat in front of him. She was being decidedly rude and he didn’t want to talk to her. Ignoring her jibe, he stared out of the window, and something black flashed past, only this time it skittered across the long wing. When it turned and stood in the middle of the wing, he noticed its claws had dug deep into the metal. It had skinny arms and legs with knobby joints, its head was round and featureless, and the torso was a solid curved oval. The face was smooth with molded looking eyes, nose and mouth, but it didn’t appear to have any ears. Lifting its scrawny arms wide, a webbed sheet appeared under each. The creature dropped to its knees, crawling along the wing until it tilted its head into the engine, and then it was gone.

  Swiveling his head sharply, he looked around to see if anyone else had noticed the creature. In the seat next to the redheaded woman, a man was docilely eating from an airline snack pack. The droning of the engines eliminated most sound, but he could still hear the people talking behind him. Worried the creature may have damaged the engine, he knew he had to get out of his seat and speak to an attendant.

  Unbuckling his extended seatbelt, he said, “I have to get up.”

  The woman sighed irritably and unbuckled her own seatbelt. Nudging the man eating from the box, she muttered, “He needs to get out.”

  Both of them moved the items from their fold down trays and shuffled out of their seats. Getting out of an airline chair was always difficult for him, and he flipped the side arms upward to give himself more room. Using the chairs in front to lever his body along the row, they bent backwards heavily, and the people in them looked up at him in surprise. He was making a spectacle of himself and he knew it. Flushed with the effort and the embarrassment, he finally stood sideways in the narrow corridor. He shuffled along it trying not to nudge the people on either side, until he found himself standing in the relatively open area next to the exits.

  The cabin crew were still wheeling their trolleys at the back of the plane, offering their lackluster meals to bored passengers. The people sitting next to the exit had wrapped blankets around their legs, making it hard for him to know where their feet were. Leaning down, he peered out of the window on the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of the odd creature. The wing of the plane was empty again, and he wondered if he’d seen anything at all.

  Now he was up he decided he might as well go to the bathroom. He didn’t need to, but at least it justified moving everyone in his aisle. If he was honest, he didn’t really want to face the disapproving look he would get from the redheaded woman. Lily glared at him enough as it was. Her tiny sighs and disappointed face was enough to tell him she thought he was failing her. It didn’t seem fair to him. She lived in a beautiful four-bedroom home, the kids went to private schools, and she even had her own sports car. He’d achieved more than he ever thought possible for a high school jock, and he wished she’d cut him some slack.

  He was standing at the front of the aisle looking at the rows of faces in front of him. Some were staring back at him with what he thought were disgusted expressions, others were reading or watching the screen in front of them. It was daylight, and the cabin was flooded with light from the windows, when suddenly everything went black.

  “What the hell?”

  The plane dipped in a sharp descent and he fell forwards, landing heavily against the people seated next to the exit. The armrest was digging into his side and people were beginning to howl in fear. The plane’s sharp descent didn’t stop, and despite his bulk, he felt himself beginning to float from the row of chairs. He was airborne in moments, and his body began to roll, slamming him against the overhead lockers, windows and chairs. As if he was crowd surfing at a concert, he rolled along the top of the long line of passenger seats, hitting people with his flailing arms and legs.

  The screaming intensified. He was tearing through oxygen masks that had dropped from the ceiling of the plane, and his head was being hammered into overhead lockers and windows. His last sight through the window was that of the creature, only it wasn’t alone. Clinging to the wing of the plane were hundreds of black bodies.

  CHAPTER SIX: Gift wrapped (Leon)

  With his heart beating rapidly in his chest, blood was running freely down his neck and drenching his shirt. He suspected it hurt, but his brain and body were still so fueled with adrenalin he couldn’t feel a thing. Billy was driving the old Toyota pickup, and Tuck was crouched down in the back of the truck with him, firing steadily at the enemy. Of the forty or so men that had surrounded them, thanks to their combined efforts, less than a dozen were left standing. As Billy drove around the shanty houses, there was a black clad body wearing fitted headgear lying prone in the sand.

  Navigators, he thought irritably, what next? From the little he’d been told, there were currently only a small number of fully trained Navigators in existence. He’d never even heard of the technology until he was called into a briefing by his Company Commander, and was told one had been assigned to his squad. His Commanding Officer had said they were a top secret capability, still being piloted under tight security, but if they tested the tech in combat theater, then it wouldn’t be long before everyone knew about it.

  Billy stopped the truck next to the black clad body, Tuck kept shooting, while he leaned down over the tailgate and tried to haul the Navigator into the back of the truck. The body was heavier than he expected, and he braced his legs against the edge of the vehicle. Seeing him struggling, Tuck briefly ceased firing to help him pull the body on board. The Navigator wasn’t being any help, and he wondered if the guy was injured. Shuffling on his ass to the driver’s back window, he banged on the glass and indicated they needed to get the hell out of dodge. Billy obliged, and the truck accelerated away from the compound.

  “What a fuck up,” Tuck complained.

  The truck was bumping furiously along the dirt track, leaving a trail of billowing fine sand behind it. Putting his hand on his neck, he felt a soft wetness, and decided they hadn’t cut deep enough to cause any real damage. He had to admit, seeing the Navigator sprinting to their position with all guns blazing was both a relief and an impressive sight. Wearing fitted black armor, with a full facemask molded to the contours of his skull, the guy looked like an angry ninja. Two thick guns were built into each forearm, which puzzled him. Surely the guy could only fire with any accuracy using his dominant hand. He didn’t have time to study the Navigator closely, but the facemask didn’t seem to have any air holes, and he assumed the gear was supplying him with oxygen.

  Continuing to watch for any pursuing enemy, he quickly glanced down at the Navigator still lying on his back, and decided he owed the man a beer.

  “What now?” Tuck asked loudly.

  “We head back to the base,” he replied.

  “Do ya reckon they know what’s happened?” Tuck asked.

  Giving Tuck a confused look, he replied, “They must have seen it happen or they wouldn’t have sent the nav.” Pointing at the blue sky above them, he added, “They’ve got satellite eyes in the sky. They know exactly what’s happened.”

  Looking above him, Tuck said vaguely, “Oh, yeah, I guess so.” Pointing at the Navigator, he asked, “W
hat about this guy? Do you think he’s hurt?”

  In the briefing about Navigator technology, he’d been told they were blind. Their natural born eyes had been replaced with silver orbs that interacted with their visor, but if they lost power as this guy had, then they wouldn’t be able to see. It was a stupid design. What soldier in their right mind would agree to potentially becoming blind in combat? They were also told not to remove the armor from an injured Navigator. Their armor did stop bullets from any weapon under .50-cal penetrating them, but it didn’t stop the possible damage from the impact caused by a lower caliber. The bullet could hit them in a vulnerable area, so that even when the armor hardened, it could bulge deeply into the soft tissue of the Navigator. They were told the impact could cause such massive internal injuries that their armor might be the only thing holding them together. It was another stupid aspect about the design. They couldn’t help a Navigator if they were injured in combat. Staring down at the immobilized black body, he realized with over two hundred pounds of gear and no power, the guy was like a turtle stuck on its back.

  Shaking his head in disgust, he replied, “It doesn’t matter if he is, we can’t do anything for him other than to get him outta here.”

  Looking equally as offended, Tuck asked, “Why the fuck did they design this shit? It’s a surefire way to get yourself killed.”

  “They’ve got too much money and not enough brains.”

  He gave up looking at the prone Navigator and stared up at the sky hoping to spot a drone. The Navigator had a small chip inserted into the back of his neck, and the satellites would pick up its low frequency signal. By now, Central Command would know they’d cleared the enemy territory and were on the move.

  Seeing a drone heading towards them, he elbowed Tuck. “There you go.”

  Tuck followed his eyes and nodded. “It was close.”

  Snorting, he replied dourly, “Not close enough to stop some asshole from nearly cutting off my head with a rusty knife.”