Dead Drop Series (Book 1): Dead Drop (Rise of the Elites)

by K. S. Black

  Documents quickly appeared and disappeared as he frantically typed in commands. The beeping continued. The screen turned blue and finally black. “No! No! No!” He picked up the keyboard and slammed it down. Several keys skittered across the table.

  “Did the network crash?” Julie asked.

  “I wish it was that.” His breathing was heavy. He swiveled the chair around to face them. “I could fix that. I had unplugged all the computers after the first alarm was triggered. Mark and Ray must have come in here to snoop around. The computers here are useless now. If they were able to shut me down, they probably got a ping on our general location. I had red herrings built into the network to make it difficult to track, but they’ll definitely find us now. We may have a couple of days, but I’m not counting on it. I need to get to my house and check the computers there to see if my files saved.”

  “What are you talking about? We are at your house and those are your computers.” Julie said.

  “I was having a house built before all of this happened. It’s not finished. I wasn’t sure about taking everyone there. It was only supposed to be Hayley and me. My other house has an underground bunker. I have my main computers there. Unfortunately, the entrance to the bunker is sealed under a foot of concrete.” He struggled to get out of his chair. “Stop staring and help me up!”

  CHAPTER 64

  Early evening, June 11 – Edwards Air Force Base, CA

  Conley met McGrath as he walked down the ramp and out of the back of a C-17. He had arrived at the plane in a DARPA-designed, combat resupply vehicle.

  “I didn’t think we had any of these FLYPModes in service yet. How do you like it?” McGrath asked.

  “It rides a lot faster and smoother than a Humvee. This is the vehicle to be in if an IED explodes next to you. How was your trip?” Before McGrath could answer, he continued speaking. “We’re set up in the big hanger behind us. I was told you’d be bringing some of the equipment we’ll be using. Where is it?”

  McGrath pointed to a C-5 with CSDCU painted on the side that had just landed. “There’s an armored, mobile unit inside with all the equipment. In the right hands, this unit has the capability of destroying a small country. I’ll need someone to retrieve it and set it up so that it’s visible from the hanger.”

  Conley signaled the driver sitting inside the FLYPmode. The warrant officer stepped out, all six feet six inches of him. Conley chuckled when McGrath made a slight movement backwards even though there was more than enough room between them.

  “So this is an advanced CES? I knew they were in existence but I didn’t know who had them. May I touch your exosuit, Warrant Officer?”

  The warrant officer stepped within arm’s reach. McGrath ran his hand over the honeycomb fabric made from a type of bullet proof textile that had chameleon-like camouflage capabilities. It changed colors to match the skin on the McGrath’s hand. When he removed it, the fabric turned black again.

  He touched the armored plates and the moveable mechanisms that covered the warrant officer’s torso. They had the same camouflage capabilities. When he was done examining the exosuit, he pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer and rubbed the gel into his hands.

  “Can your helmet be removed?”

  “Although it provides protection like a helmet, what you’re seeing is actually a part of his head. It can’t be removed. Well, it could, but I don’t think he’d like that very much. Thanks for the demo. I’ll drive Captain McGrath to the hanger.”

  The warrant officer shook his head.

  You’re dismissed to retrieve the mobile unit, Warrant Officer,” McGrath said.

  The CES walked toward the C-5. The whine of hydraulics accompanied him as he moved across the tarmac.

  “Can he speak?” McGrath studied the warrant officer as he walked away.

  “Yes, but we both have implants so we can communicate without speaking.” Conley tapped the side of his head after McGrath turned back to face him. “He can pick up what you’re saying over a hundred yards away. He can also see in the dark and do damn near everything better than a normal soldier. He’s pretty amazing. Don’t you have some cyborgs in your units?”

  “We do. But they’re not as advanced. We use the first gen cyborgs that were designed for communications not warfare. There are two in each Tatrapan with two enhanced soldiers to act as drivers and bodyguards. They also help with any heavy lifting. You’ll meet them soon. Which reminds me—I should contact the crew and let them know the warrant officer is on his way.”

  “No need. He let them know he’s coming.”

  * * *

  The hanger was alive with activity as the ACWR unit prepared for its mission. Two of the four black Quad Tilt Rotor (QTR) aircraft were parked inside. They were large tandem-wing aircraft with 50-foot rotors at each of the four wing tips and a C-130-sized fuselage. They were designed to carry larger loads of cargo than a C-130, faster and with the ability to land anywhere. Only a select group knew about their existence.

  “Are those drones?” McGrath pointed to two small, black helicopters less than half the size and weight of an Apache attack helicopter. This aircraft had open air cockpits and twice the firepower with its forward and rear facing 30mm chainguns. Hellfire and Sidewinder missiles hung from either side.

  Conley parked the FLYPmode next to one of the small aircraft. “You have a good eye. Those are Black Wasps. They were originally going to be drones, but that didn’t work out so well. Now they’re semi-drone, tactical helicopters. These two have been modified for my two CES operators, my warrant officer, who you just met, and my master sergeant. They’re the only ones who can fly them. You’re looking at two of the deadliest small aircraft ever built.”

  Both men got out of the vehicle. McGrath moved in closer for a better look. “What’s that?” He pointed at four compartments attached to the rear of one of the helicopters.

  “It’s a mine delivery system. Inside each of those four compartments are one hundred, high explosive mines about the size of silver dollars. I don’t know what’s inside those little suckers, but I saw one blow the front axle off an RG-33 armored vehicle and watched another disable an M1A1 Abrams.”

  “The ACWR unit is impressive.”

  Conley eyed McGrath as he watched the maintenance crew fold up both Black Wasps and place them side by side into the cargo hold of the QTR.

  “I have something else to show you. We just got some new toys I think you’ll like. Follow me.” He led McGrath to a small group of vehicles that looked like a cross between a dune buggy and an attack helicopter with twin tow missiles and a .50 caliber machine gun.

  McGrath adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

  “We just got these. Let me introduce you to the Crusader Fast Attack Vehicle—it’s a two-man, high-speed, death machine. One of these has the capability to take out six tanks. The skin is the latest in military armor. And it’s fast—faster than any other military land vehicle and almost as deadly as the Black Wasp. After this mission, we can take one out for a ride and blow some targets up if you want.” The uptight asshole would shit his pants. Conley smiled at the thought.

  McGrath didn’t comment on the offer. “Is that an M134 minigun mounted on the side?”

  “Yes, but it only has one minigun because of the extra missiles mounted on the other side.” He took a few steps and slapped the side of another Crusader. “This one has twin miniguns. Two agents of death with up to six thousand 7.62 caliber rounds that will rain hell on the enemy. It’s an awesome thing to behold.” He gave McGrath a hearty pat on the back. The captain visibly stiffened and moved away.

  * * *

  The four QTRs were staged and already out on the tarmac against a backdrop of wide swaths of yellow, orange, and red. Conley joined McGrath in the communication module; the captain’s world was filled with the latest high-tech computer and communication equipment that the WFP could acquire using the WFN’s seemingly limitless supply of money and influence. The pissing contest
was definitely on.

  Conley acquainted himself with the module by scrutinizing the equipment but not touching anything. The four CES operators unplugged from their computers and stood at attention facing them.

  “At ease. Everyone return to your seats. Except C1.”

  C1 moved out of the way and stood at ease while McGrath sat down at his computer and logged in.

  “Deploy ACWR,” McGrath said over the mic.

  A high definition LCD display screen showed the QTRs ascending into the darkening sky. At the same time, the inside of the module vibrated. Another screen displayed an aerial view of his aircraft. A third screen displayed a map of the flight path they would follow. “Do you know who we’re looking for?” Conley asked.

  McGrath got out of his seat and offered it to Conley. He projected information from his tablet to one of the screens. “It looks like a group, and I just found out who the ringleader is.” He tapped the tablet. A map of Arizona appeared on the large screen. He zoomed in on Tucson.

  McGrath pointed to a blinking red dot on the northeast section of Tucson. Four white lines crossed over the top of it. He tapped the tablet’s screen again. An address along with a driver’s license photo of Cooper Carle Reid appeared on one of the display screens. A second tap brought up his military record, his official Coast Guard photo and his LinkedIn profile. The final tap brought up a website: Eyes on the World.

  “So you were able to bring up that info by zooming in on the house and cross referencing the address with government records?”

  “Yes.”

  “Looks like he’s some sort of urban survivalist with his own website. But that doesn’t mean he’s still alive or even there.”

  “At first, we thought he was either gone or dead. But we were wrong.” McGrath swiped a finger across the tablet. A satellite image of the house appeared on the screen. “This is where he lives.”

  “So you have Google maps. What’s that going to tell us?”

  “This may take a few minutes.” McGrath moved his finger on the tablet again and waited.

  Conley stared at the screen and was rewarded with movement in less than a minute. McGrath tapped the tablet. On the display screen, two white circles attached themselves to the moving objects, obviously people by the way they moved.

  “Now watch.”

  A minute went by. Another photo with personal information was displayed. This time, the photo was of a woman in a deputy sheriff’s uniform. Her name was listed as Julie Harvey with an address in Blythe, CA. Other information appeared on the screen: birthdate, marital status, schools attended, organizations she belonged to, and bank account numbers. Personal details such as the brand of toothpaste she regularly purchased, her favorite take-out restaurants, and her website and television viewing habits were also displayed. Finally: AFFILIATION UNKNOWN.

  McGrath swiped his finger on the tablet again. A school photo of Hayley Ann Reid appeared on the screen along with a Rohnert Park, CA address. Only a couple of lines of personal information appeared: birthdate, schools attended, therapist names, extra-curricular activities, and websites visited. AFFILIATION: DAUGHTER of COOPER CARLE REID. A driver’s license photo of her mother, Shannon Lopez Reid, along with her birthdate, marital status, occupation, and work address was linked to Hayley Reid’s information.

  “If his daughter is there, he’s close by,” McGrath said.

  “Uh-oh. Looks like the kid liked anime, and she needed therapy because her parents got a divorce. So, what kind of dirt did you dig up on me?” Conley asked.

  “Apparently you’re dead and have been for the past four years. But I know all about you, Major.”

  McGrath cleared Hayley’s information from the screen. “In a few minutes, it’ll be too dark for us to see, but we can watch where they go in infrared.”

  “This Cooper Reid—you’re sure he’s your hacker?”

  McGrath bent down and spoke into a small microphone as he held down a key on the keyboard in front of Conley. “Display all information on Cooper Carle Reid.” The screen on the right displayed the files he had collected. “He’s our hacker. And we need to stop him before he can cause any more damage.”

  “Why do you believe he’s affiliated with the group who took out two of your teams?”

  “It doesn’t matter. They’re all targets now.”

  “Even the little girl?”

  “They’re all targets.”

  CHAPTER 65

  Early evening, June 11 – Hatch, New Mexico

  “Not one single power pole on this highway with a transformer—I thought you said they were everywhere.” Michele stretched her legs after getting out of the LAV a few miles north of Hatch.

  “My god, woman. You’ve said that at least twenty times. I was making an educated guess. I was wrong. I thought we’d have more than enough fuel to make it, even with the extra weight and the horse trailer. I must have miscalculated.”

  “It’s not like we can call somebody for help.”

  “Are you always this bitchy?”

  “The apocalypse tends to make me bitchy, especially when I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with the possibility of becoming someone’s dinner.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “What’s your plan now?”

  “I’m going to ride into Hatch and get some fuel.” Jake jumped down from the LAV.

  “Oh, no. You’re not leaving me alone here. I’m going with you.”

  Jake set up two ramps on the horse trailer and led the black and white Pintabian and the buckskin-colored quarter horse out to the road. “You need to stay here and take care of the animals, darlin’. It’s too damn hot to leave them in the trailer with no air circulating.”

  “Nah-uh. I go where you go. This is the middle of nowhere and the animals will be safe from the crazies. We can tie the livestock up under some shade and leave them some water. The chickens will be fine inside with the windows and the vents open. You need me to watch your back.” She opened the ramp and led the blue roan quarter horse out. “Show me how to work this thing.”

  * * *

  After a dusty and sweaty two-hour ride into town with Jake on the pintabian, Michele on the blue roan, and the buckskin- colored mare tethered to his saddle, they located a gas station not far from the highway. Jake took off his hat and looked at the sun’s position in the sky. “The ride took longer than I expected. We need to hurry.”

  He set up his hand pump. Michelle opened the jerry cans secured to the buckskin-colored mare. Then he began the arduous process of pumping the fuel.

  While Jake worked, Michele paced as she held onto the reins of the other two horses and kept an eye out for any movement.

  “Why’s it taking so long? We should have spent the night where we were and done this in the morning.”

  “Stop fussing at me. You’re making it take longer.” The sun inched its way closer towards the horizon as Jake cranked hard on the pump, his arm ready to give out. “Okay, you can put the hose in the last can.”

  Michele grabbed the hose and moved around to the other side of the buckskin-colored mare so she could get closer to the jerrycan. She lost her grip on the hose. It fell to the ground in front of the pintabian and splashed fuel on his legs. Already anxious, the horse lunged back on its hind legs and let out a loud whinny. Michele tripped on the hose as she tried to get away from his front hooves. They slashed at the air inches above her. The gelding snorted as he backed away from the hose as if it was a snake.

  Jake moved to help Michele while trying to grab the reins of the fuel-laden, buckskin-colored mare to keep her from running away. He managed to get the reins in his hands but the horse was startled by the pintabian’s frantic movements and nearly pulled him off his feet. He grabbed the pintabian’s reins and held tight to both sets.

  “Michele! Get your horse before she gets too far away.”

  She didn’t respond. Instead, a bullet whizzed next to Jake’s ear. Before he could turn around to see what she was shooting at, she discharged two more rounds and
ran towards her horse. Her target was on the ground in front of them: a crazy with blood soaking through his tattered and filthy shirt. His half-clothed body spasmed until he expired with a final shudder.

  She slung her rifle across her back and took off running after her horse. He yelled her name, but she kept running.

  He mounted the skittish pintabian on the run and muscled the horse into a gallop towards Michele. He leaned over, scooped her up, and deposited her across his lap just before the pintabian slid across some loose gravel trying to stop. When the gelding regained his footing, he reared up to strike at an advancing crazy.

  Jake let go of the reins of the buckskin-colored mare, and she ran in the opposite direction, away from the growing frenzy. Michele tried to keep a tight grip on the pintabian’s saddle as Jake steered the horse in the opposite direction. She slid off but managed to somehow plant both feet firmly on the ground.

  The crazy came at them fast and collided with the pintabian. Before the crazy could get back up, the horse was on top of her stomping with his hooves until she stopped moving.

  Up ahead, almost two dozen crazies cornered the blue roan against a cinderblock wall. The mare’s eyes bulged and her nostrils flared as she let out an ear-piercing squeal. She spun around trying to get away, her tail clamped tightly against her hind quarters.

  As she tried to rear up, the crazies clung to her hide. Two of them had thrown themselves over the top of the panicked animal, and one sunk his teeth into her neck while the other ripped at the flesh on her rump. She staggered forward. One of her front legs gave out. The bloodied animal collapsed under the weight of the entire group of crazies that had come to feed. Her squeals of pain brought more of them out into the fading light.

  Jake kicked the Pintabian in the ribs to get him moving away from the slaughter and towards Michele. “Put your foot in the stirrup. I’ll pull you up.”