A Dubious Device: The Nanobot Terror (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 10)

by Gerald Kubicki

  They rounded a curve on the highway, it was near the airport. The airport paralleled the road. Spike suddenly skidded to a stop. Spike couldn’t believe his eyes. There was a huge tank blocking the road. The heavy gun was aimed directly at him. He had run across many strange things in the desert, but a tank was a first.

  “What the hell is this?” Spike roared and scratched his bald head. The other bikers piled up alongside and behind him, all wondering the same thing.

  “Is someone filming a movie?” Wind wondered out loud. Several movies had been filmed in the desolate desert around them.

  “Get that friggin tank out of the road. We need to pass,” he growled loudly and waved his arms to get the attention of the driver. A bright spotlight on the tank came on and Spike and his friends had to cover their eyes.

  It was completely silent. There was no noise coming from the tank. Spike sat there for about two minutes, getting madder and madder. He was about to blow his top when a voice finally came from a tinny speaker on the tank.

  “Gentlemen, throw down your arms and lay down on the tarmac with your hands on your heads.”

  “Ha-Ha,” Spike roared and threw up his hands in laughter. He turned to his men and said, “Do you believe this guy?”

  “Maybe we should bust them up some,” Dust whispered in a sinister tone as he stared at the big tank. “I got some grenades in my bag.”

  “I repeat, throw down your arms and lay down on the tarmac with your hands on your heads,” the loudspeaker repeated. The sound of the speaker could be heard for miles in the open desert. It was annoyingly loud.

  “I got me an RPG in my side bag,” Wind told their leader. “We could scatter and come at that thing from several sides.”

  Spike was not a tactical leader. He was the leader of this gang only because he could beat the crap out of any of his men in a fight, fair or not fair. Thinking was not his strong suit. He had no fear, only hostility.

  “I’m an American citizen and I have a right to bear arms,” Spike suddenly spat back at the tank. “I’ll never give up my guns.”

  “You have one minute to comply,” the loudspeaker announced.

  “Get the hell out of my way or we’ll just go around you and leave some dents in your piece-of-shit tank,” Spike threatened. He could be very threatening when he had the upper hand, but it didn’t seem the tank was too impressed with his attempt at intimidation. He was getting concerned.

  “You’ve got thirty seconds,” the loudspeaker announced. The tanks engines started at the same time.

  “Why should I do as you say?” Spike asked indignantly as he tried to show his men that he wasn’t afraid.

  “Because I said so, asshole,” the voice replied with authority. The gun turret moved slightly to have a better shot. “I also have the bigger gun.”

  Spike was very angry now, no one challenged him. His hand went to his pistol. It was hidden in the folds of his stomach and tucked into the waistband of his pants. He wanted to shoot someone, but there was only the tank in front of him.

  “What do you want to do, man? There isn’t much time,” Wind spoke nervously into his ear. He could hear his men cocking their guns and getting ready to rumble. He wondered if they could take on a tank.

  Suddenly, Spike sensed movement to his side. A soldier armed with an automatic weapon rose from the desert. Another one rose on the other side. Spike turned around and saw two more soldiers appear behind him. He wanted to fight, that’s what he would do normally, but he could see he was severely out-gunned.

  “If they take us into custody, we’ll never get out of jail,” Dust whispered, but everyone heard him. “We’ve done a lot of bad things man. The government isn’t going to forgive us, you know.” Ever so slowly, the bikers began to form a circle with their bikes. Spike still didn’t know what to do.

  He hated the government. He saw government workers as just a bunch of inept, liberal asses, sponges who stole money from hard working people like himself. That included the army, whom he believed wasted more money than anyone. But there were too many guns to win. He was now in survival mode. His best hope was to slip away during the fighting. He could always find new gang members.

  “You have fifteen seconds,” the tinny speaker announced. The tank began to move slowly forward.

  “I’m done waiting,” Wind screamed nervously. “I’m going to fight, it’s our only chance,” he exclaimed.

  “Me too,” Dust cried out. “You guys shoot the soldiers. We’re going to hit the tank.” They revved their chopper engines and took off out into the desert. Some of Spike’s men turned to shoot at the soldiers, but they had dropped to the ground when the skinheads hinted they would fight by revving their engines.

  “Get behind your bikes for protection,” Spike screamed as he leveled his gun and shot at the metal monster. The bullet just ricocheted off the heavy metal plating. They all dropped to the ground behind their choppers and started firing.

  “Fire at will,” the loudspeaker ordered. Two quick shots rang out and the sound of choppers in the desert suddenly stopped.

  “We’re screwed, man,” one of the other members of the gang screamed. “They got Dust and Wind.”

  A machine gun on the tank suddenly began to spit out fire. The road in front of the bikers circle was quickly chewed up and turned into rubble. The bullets walked their way towards the frightened bikers. Spike realized the heavy metal bikes were no protection against the high caliber tank gun. They would all be killed in seconds.

  The machine gun suddenly stopped and the voice over the speaker asked a question. “Want to give up now?”

  “Alright, we give up,” Spike quickly yelled back. He threw down his weapons and threw up his hands.

  “Get on the ground with your hands in the air,” the loudspeaker ordered.

  “But we haven’t done anything wrong,” Spike screamed. But he complied. The rest of his men quickly followed his lead and soon all of them were lying face down on the road.

  Three men materialized from behind the tank and ran towards the skinheads with their guns drawn. They were the entire security guard detail from the airport. They along with the soldiers quickly cuffed the bikers.

  “What are you arresting us for?” Spike screamed. “I know my rights. You have to charge us with something.”

  “We’re taking you into custody for possible terrorist activates against the airport,” the head security guard said calmly.

  “What? We’re not terrorists, you idiot,” Spike screamed. “We’re on our way to a security job.”

  “Sure you are,” the man replied.

  “I want a lawyer,” Spike demanded.

  “Right now you are accessories to the death of the two bikers in the desert,” Lieutenant Curry said as he pointed into the blackness. “Until we determine whether this was a domestic terrorist attack on the airport, or not, you’re not entitled to a lawyer. But when that is determined, you may get a nice long vacation in Cuba, along with a bunch of people who talk funny and don’t wash very often. If you are lucky, you’ll only be twenty years in federal prison.”

  “But we weren’t going to attack the airport,” Spike protested as the veins in his neck nearly popped.

  “And you didn’t attempt to fire on a US government army tank either, I suppose,” Lieutenant Curry said as he walked towards Spike. He was thankful the general had gotten him straightened out. I just might get a promotion for stopping these assholes, he thought with a smile.

  “I’m telling you we weren’t going to the airport,” Spike screamed. “We were headed to Laughlin.”

  “That may be true, but we got an anonymous tip just a few minutes ago which said otherwise. So, you and your boys are going into custody until we figure this out.” The lieutenant replied.

  “An anonymous tip?” Spike sputtered. “From where?”

  “It came from a nice old lady in the bar in Bullhead City. She said you were bragging about taking over the airport.”

  “It’s a
biker bar, for Christ sakes. Old women don’t go there,” Spike cried out. “We’ve been set up.

  “Hey lieutenant,” one of his men called out. “The radio is working again.”

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  “B

  art, it looks like they have turned around again and are now headed back into the mountains,” Colton Banyon said with a confused voice into the phone. Wolf had already told him the bikers were stopped and in custody. There would be no extra security for Bernard’s warehouse.

  “Why have they turned around again, I wonder?” Bart asked.

  “I don’t know,” Banyon lied. “Maybe they were checking to see if someone was tailing them.”

  “But you’re sure they are not heading back here, right?” Bart could feel excitement filling his body.

  “Absolutely,” Banyon responded as he watched the headlights coming across the valley. They were almost to the mine.

  “Then we are good to go for the assault,” Bart replied as adrenaline now began to pump into his veins.

  “Good luck, we’ll handle our end,” Banyon said and ended the call.

  ***

  Bart immediately turned to his small army. They were crowded around the side of one of the SUVs and raring to go. “Okay, people we go in five minutes. Get in place and wait for my signal.” Everyone silently hustled off to their jumping off points.

  Bart’s plan was fairly simple. The warehouse had three entrance doors and the loading dock door. Each of his three person teams was assigned to a door and a section of the building. He was going in through the dock area because Banyon had told him he believed the nanobot storage containers were in a corner of the warehouse. Bart wanted to shut them down quickly and kill off the nanobots.

  Soon, his people were positioned just outside the glow of the parking lot lights and out of range of the surveillance cameras. They were ready to sprint to their assigned door. If their door was locked, each had a special explosive device to blow the locks. It would also put anyone behind the door on the ground.

  Bart now pressed his ear piece for everyone to hear. “Timmy, shut down all their surveillance cameras on my mark.” He started counting backwards from five. When he reached zero, he yelled, “Go”. The assault was on.

  Four minor explosions filled the still desert air. Bart’s teams entered the building using a classic three prong approach. When they established their first perimeter inside the doors, it became clear that no one was around. The machines were still running and all the lights were still on, but there were no workers. There was just the scream of an alarm and several red flashing lights.

  Bart entered through the door by the loading bays. He quickly noticed the color coded tanks in the corner and bolted for a huge junction box on the wall behind the five tall cylinders. He was about to throw the switch when he noticed some grey goo leaking onto the floor. It was several feet away but spreading from an open nozzle on one of the tanks. The sight filled him with shock and horror.

  “They opened one of the tanks,” he yelled. “There is a nanobot swarm growing on the floor. Watch out.”

  Chapter Eighty

  B

  art was in complete panic. “Try to relax, Bart,” Timmy yelled into his ear piece to calm him down. “We have this under control.” The hacker had taken complete control of the warehouse security system and locked out all the local screens. He now controlled all the cameras and any equipment connected to it in the warehouse. Timmy could clearly see the nanobot swarm and everything else going on in the building, but no one inside could.

  “Don’t worry, the nanobots are still frozen,” he told Bart. “That’s why you can see them in a swarm, they are all piled up on each other,” Timmy told everyone with an ear piece. “It’ll take them several minutes to unfreeze, but once they become mobile, you’ll have a big problem, unless we do something to neutralize them fast.”

  “But what can we do?” The usually cool Bart uttered hysterically into his ear piece. When faced with certain death — he had lost his focus. His assault teams also stopped in their tracks and began to look for other swarms as they became concerned about their own safety. They stopped searching for the enemy. It was exactly what Bernard expected them to do. It gave him an edge.

  “Turn off the faucet on the cylinder, man. Stop them from pouring out,” Timmy yelled. “Then turn off the power to the storage tanks. You have to save the world first, before you worry about yourself.”

  ***

  Upstairs in his bedroom and office, Bernard Schultz was himself in panic. He was cursing and swearing. When Timmy took over the security system, he blocked Bernard from seeing what was happening in the building. He was now effectively blind. He had no way to direct his meager security troops and maintain a proper defense. Several people were in the room with him as he screamed and cursed.

  ***

  Five minutes earlier, when Bernard still had control of his warehouse, he had begun to set up his defenses. He knew someone was going to attack the warehouse because one of the security guards had heard a rumbling outside. When he snuck a peek out a window, he could see the tank was leaving. He reported it to his supervisor who brought it to Bernard. Schultz was perplexed for a minute because he couldn’t believe his son had let him down and recalled the tank. Then he realized the enemy was using deception and diversion — just like he would. The tank wasn’t coming back and they would soon be under attack.

  Bernard hit the red warning button on his desk, it started a siren and red flashing lights in the warehouse. He used the intercom system to order all his people up to the second floor. He told them to arm themselves with the weapons stored in the kitchen. He gave his security team instructions to disable the elevator so no one could use it. But first he wanted his head of security to open the faucet on the nanobot container which killed indiscriminately.

  Bernard knew it would take about fifteen minutes for the little robots to become active, but figured no one else knew that. He was pretty sure his enemy knew the nanobots were killing machines. That is why they were coming after me, he figured. He hoped the fear of seeing the nanobots would stymie the enemy, make them hesitate, and he could direct his counter attack. But the monitors had gone blank, making him effectively blind. It would be much harder to defend the warehouse now.

  He rationalized that all he had to do was hold off the invasion for only a couple of minutes because his biker security team was due at any second. He tried to call them but got no answer. This worried him, but he further rationalized that no one would be stupid enough to answer a cell phone while riding a chopper. They would get here soon, he thought. Then we’ll make them pay.

  Schultz had fifteen people who could shoot a gun. The rest of his people were scientists or inept women. “Take up positions along the upper walkway,” he ordered. “I need to know how many invaders are penetrating the perimeter.”

  “But what about the nanobots?” one of his people asked in frightened voice. “They can kill us too.”

  “Don’t worry they can’t reach us up here. By the time they climb the walls they will run out of juice and die,” Barnard lied with a straight face. He didn’t much care if most of his people died as long as he survived. He would be locked in his air tight room with his scientists and the women.

  ***

  “What can we do about all these nanobots on the floor?” Bart yelled into his ear piece. “We can’t just scoop them up.”

  “I will take care of those little buggers,” Timmy advised him. “Starting right now,” he said like a person sending an email.

  Suddenly, Bart heard a couple of pipes rattle and water began pouring from the sprinkler system. He was immediately drenched. So were all his people and all of Bernard’s people. Water was raining down in buckets in the entire warehouse, even in Bernard’s suite. Timmy had activated the sprinkler system.

  The swarm of nanobots darkened in color and began to emit small sparks as the water penetrated the grey goo and short circuited the tiny mac
hines. Nanobots were being destroyed by the billions.

  The water soon began to build on the floor of the warehouse. It seemed to pick up the swarm and carry it towards a drain. There was a big one built into the center of the floor of the warehouse. Bart stood in fascination as he watched the water pick up speed and circle the drain. In two minutes, the swarm had gone down into oblivion.

  “Piece of cake,” Timmy said into Bart’s ear. “I am the world’s best hacker, you know” he proclaimed.

  “Well, stop celebrating, we’re not done yet. Turn off the stupid alarm, would you. It’s giving me a headache.” The alarm quickly went silent.

  “Done,” Timmy responded.

  “Okay, people let’s get back to the attack,” Bart yelled into his ear piece. “Does anyone have anything to report?” Reports came back that there were no hostiles visible from all three other teams.

  “They’re all on the second floor,” Timmy broke in. “It looks like there are about twenty-five people up there. I only see maybe fifteen people with guns. It looks like they are trying to hide behind metal plates and boxes on the second floor walkway. I think they are trying to determine how many people are attacking them.”

  “Let’s assemble behind the wooden pallets near the front of the office area. They will give us cover,” Steve said into his ear piece.

  Bart and his two other team members ran towards the two story office area in the front of the large building. The water continued to pour down from the sprinklers and the floor had become very slippery and treacherous. Bags holding supplies were disintegrating and their contents were spilling on the floor and mixing with the water. The clean warehouse had quickly become a quagmire. He slid in behind the wooden pallets and was happy to see all his people were there and unharmed.

  “I know these aren’t ideal conditions for an assault,” Bart said. “But we need to stop these guys. Is everybody in?” Eleven water soaked heads shook yes.