Paradise Hacked (First Circle Club Book 2)

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Paradise Hacked (First Circle Club Book 2) Page 10

by Siegel, Alex


  "Looks heavy," Knox said.

  "Ninety-eight pounds, sir," Harlow replied. "Good thing the test subject doesn't have to run a marathon in it."

  "Will it protect him?"

  "It's air-tight, bulletproof, and radiation hardened. Not sure what else we can do."

  Knox checked his watch again. "It's almost time to go. Start packing up."

  "We're just putting the final touches on the telemetry." Harlow pointed at a gadget on the back of the helmet.

  "How much longer?"

  "Twenty minutes." Harlow moved away from his assistants and lowered his voice to a whisper. "How is the alien hunt going, sir?"

  "Four of them are in a basement underneath an antique store in Chinatown," Knox said.

  "Strange." Harlow furrowed his brow.

  "I have operatives posted all over that neighborhood, but hopefully nothing will happen until after we're done with the experiment. Hurry up."

  "Yes, sir."

  * * *

  "Break time is over," Virgil declared. "Back to work. I want to hear fresh ideas."

  He challenged Alfred, Sara, and Lisa with his stare. Virgil's power to cause fear and shame didn't work on them, but he hoped they got the message anyway.

  "I keep coming back to the same old idea," Sara said. "Let's call the number for the O.E.A.P. and leave another message. We'll challenge the military to come after us."

  "You're asking for trouble," Virgil said, "and you don't even know how to fight."

  "I can aim a gun."

  "I've seen you shoot. It's embarrassing. Alfred has some Kung Fu skills, but I wouldn't trust him with a firearm either. Lisa and I are the only real warriors here. It will be the two of us against God knows how many Special Forces operatives. And what's the objective? Are you suggesting we kidnap and interrogate some of them? That could get very nasty."

  "Alfred can use his voice to induce cooperation," Sara said.

  "That doesn't always work. It didn't in the coffee shop. Special Forces guys are trained to resist interrogation. Getting answers out of them could take a long time and involve a lot of pain."

  She worked her jaw. "You have a better idea?"

  Virgil rubbed his temples, but it didn't help him think. He had counted on Mei to provide the next lead. The team was hobbled without her.

  "OK," he said finally, "you can make your call, but let's think this through. We need to meet them in a favorable location. Not Chinatown. Too many civilians around here."

  "But it can't look suspicious," Lisa added.

  Virgil decided to check the weapons while he considered the problem. He walked over to a line of three green footlockers against a wall. He unlocked the first by dialing a combination lock, and he pulled open the lid.

  Chunks of black foam held a number of guns, spanning a range of calibers. The collection included a Walther P22Q, a Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum, a Remington 1911 R1 Commander, and a Desert Eagle.

  Virgil grabbed the Desert Eagle and checked the action. It felt stiff. He took a gun cleaning kit from a shelf, sat at a table, and began to work on the gun.

  "There is a quarry on the south side," Lisa said. "It's been abandoned for a long time. We could meet there."

  "I don't like the idea of being trapped in a big hole," Virgil said. "We need a location that provides natural ways for us to escape."

  "What about a lake? If the meeting goes badly, we can escape underwater. We don't need to breathe. We can stay on the bottom all day if necessary. Water stops bullets, too."

  Virgil knew she was right about the protective properties of water. Even a bullet fired from a sniper rifle would only travel a few feet before slowing to a harmless speed.

  "The Chicago River," he said. "It's dirty, dark, and cold. We'll be invisible once we're in the water. We don't have body heat, so even thermal cameras won't work."

  Lisa nodded. "We'll meet the military on one of the bridges."

  "Sounds like we have a basic plan," Sara said. "I'll make the call."

  * * *

  "Play the recording again," Colonel Knox said. He pressed his phone against his ear and listened carefully.

  "This is Detective Sara Blandish again," a woman said. "The Illinois State Police Department still wants answers. The last meeting was unsatisfactory. We know the Office of Experimental Aero-Physics is a cover for a secret military operation. We also know the dead man was Corporal Scott Hartmann. If you want to find out what else we know, call me."

  "Thank you," Knox said to an operator back at headquarters. "That's all for now." He hung up his phone.

  He settled back in his seat. He was riding in the back of a Humvee with Major Weber. The car was travelling to the site where tonight's experiment would be performed.

  "The aliens are taunting us," Knox said. "They think they can draw us into a trap."

  "Then it's a good thing we already have them surrounded, sir," Weber said.

  Knox nodded. "We'll deal with it later. We have to focus on the experiment."

  He looked out the window. The car was driving through the Forest Preserve District of Cook County. The district covered tens of thousands of acres and was the largest of its kind in the United States. As the car passed through the thickly wooded forest, it was easy to forget how close to Chicago he was. He saw no signs of civilization except for the dirt road. There was nothing but nature in all directions.

  The car came to a stop with a high squeal from its brakes. Knox zipped up his coat and stepped out. The chilly air turned his breath into fog.

  Four other Humvees and two transport trucks were already parked on the side of the narrow road. The advance team had arrived an hour ahead of time to setup the equipment. Lights on stands illuminated the center of a nearby clearing where the experiment would take place. He walked in that direction.

  * * *

  Sergeant Charles Hill was feeling excited and bewildered at the same time. He was the test subject for a top secret experiment of immense importance. He knew the job would be dangerous and difficult, but it was worth it. The scientists were trying to open a gateway to an alien world!

  The location confused him though. He was standing in a grassy clearing in the middle of a dark forest. It was the middle of the night, and the only light came from battery-powered lamps. He couldn't imagine a less likely location for an alien gateway.

  At least Sergeant's Hill's clothing was entirely appropriate for the mission. It was a modified spacesuit designed to keep him alive under extreme conditions. Circulating air maintained a comfortable interior temperature. Plate armor clanked with every step and interfered with his movements, but he was glad for the protection. He had no idea what he would encounter on the far side of the gateway.

  He put his hand on his gun to reassure himself. He was packing a .45 caliber semiautomatic loaded with armor-piercing ammunition. He hoped the aliens wouldn't take offence, but he had to be prepared for hostilities.

  Hill spotted Colonel Knox approaching, and he snapped to attention.

  "How are you doing?" Knox said.

  The colonel was still in good shape despite his advancing age. He had a big, round face and a broad chest. The cold had brought a bright pink flush to his cheeks.

  Hill lifted off his helmet and held it in his hands. "Outstanding, sir!"

  "That's great. You understand your instructions?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Don't try to be a superhero," Knox said. "If you get through the portal, just take a quick look around and come back. Don't sightsee. The most important thing is to return alive and make your report."

  "Yes, sir. Uh, am I the first to try this?"

  "No, but you'll be the first to succeed." Knox patted Hill on the shoulder, producing a clanking noise.

  The sound of footsteps made Hill turn, and he saw Dr. Harlow approaching. The scientist was tall and skinny, and he walked with a slight limp. Sparse hair was combed over his scalp. Big glasses magnified his hazel eyes.

  "How does that suit feel?"
Harlow said.

  "Very comfortable, sir," Hill said, "but kind of heavy."

  "Excellent. After you go through the portal, don't linger on the other side. Come straight back. Got it? You have the dance memorized?"

  "Yes, but I don't understand. How will a dance open a space-time gateway?"

  "Trust me." Harlow flashed a smile. "You'll also be chanting, but we'll get to that in a minute. First comes the oath of secrecy."

  "Oath, sir?" Hill said.

  "If you meet aliens, we don't want you telling them our secrets. Repeat after me. I swear by all that is divine and holy...."

  Hill looked at Colonel Knox in confusion.

  The colonel nodded. "Just humor him. It's an annoyance, but he always insists it's necessary."

  Hill shrugged. "I swear by all that is divine and holy."

  "And by the names of Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Orifiel, Zarachiel, Uriel, and Simiel...."

  With a little coaching, Hill repeated the oath.

  Harlow went on, "I shall not discuss this project with anybody else. I shall not reveal its intentions, its methods, or the names of its staff. I will do everything in my power to protect the secrecy of the Crusader Special Unit. Even if the powers of Heaven and the princes of Hell command me, even if my soul burns in the flames of perdition, no matter what compels me, I shall not break this oath from now until the end of eternity. So help me God."

  Hill worked his way through the strangely religious oath. It seemed very inappropriate for a military expedition, but Colonel Knox kept quiet, so Hill went along with it.

  "That takes care of that," Harlow said with a surprising amount of relief in his voice. "One last detail. When you perform your dance, read this over and over."

  He gave Hill a piece of paper. Hill examined the sheet which had some words printed on it. He didn't recognize the language.

  "What is this, sir?"

  "It's like a secret key," Harlow said. "It will open the gateway. The spelling is phonetic."

  "What language is it?"

  "Don't worry about it. Just put your helmet on and move to the center of the field. We'd like to get started."

  Hill was puzzled, but he complied. He pushed on his helmet and made sure the seal was locked tight. He heard the soft whir of the ventilation system. He walked across the grass to a brightly lit area.

  "Can you hear me?" Dr. Harlow said through a radio near Hill's ear.

  "Yes, sir," Hill said.

  "Good. All systems are green. Proceed with the experiment."

  "You really want me to dance and sing?"

  "It's a chant," Harlow said, "a very special one. Go ahead."

  Hill shrugged and began his dance. Two steps forward, two back, turn, shuffle, three steps right...

  At the same time, he read the words on the sheet. They were gibberish, but they had a nice musical cadence at least. He quickly settled into a rhythm.

  He couldn't help but feel silly, and he wondered if he were the victim of an incredibly elaborate practical joke. The project staff members weren't smiling though. A cluster of scientists was fiddling with equipment stacked on tables. Soldiers had created a security perimeter complete with barbed wire and machine guns. Colonel Knox stood with his arms crossed and a vaguely anxious expression on his face. Nobody appeared to be having a good time.

  Hill noticed a strange light coming from above. He looked at the sky and saw an orange glow behind a cloud.

  "I see something," he said into his radio.

  "Describe it," Dr. Harlow responded. A bit of static obscured his voice.

  "It's like a ball of fire directly overhead, but it's behind a cloud. Can you see it?"

  "No."

  "Do you believe me?"

  "Yes," Harlow said. "Only you can see it, but you're not hallucinating. Continue with the experiment."

  Hill didn't understand why Harlow couldn't see the light. It was bright and getting brighter.

  Hill danced and chanted with more enthusiasm now. Maybe the performance was doing something after all. He kept glancing up at the sky. The clouds were now glowing orange like fireballs from an atomic bomb.

  He began to get hot. The air-conditioning system in his suit made a loud hum as it labored to keep his temperature down. The helmet included a sun visor, and he lowered it to block out some of the light.

  "What's going on?" he said. "It's like I walked into a forest fire."

  "Continue with the experiment," Harlow said. "This phenomenon is normal."

  "I don't see anything normal about it."

  Harlow didn't respond.

  Hill continued dancing. The light grew even brighter until he was squinting even with the visor down.

  Then he saw something new. A strip of silver gradually reached down from the clouds until it touched the ground. The strip was as wide as a road, and it snaked back and forth. The shallow angle invited him to walk on it. He could hardly believe his own eyes.

  "I see a silver path," he said. "It's beautiful. It's polished like a mirror."

  "Excellent," Harlow said, but static made him hard to understand. "When you step onto the path, you'll lose radio contact. Your mission is to get on, look around, and get off right away. Report what you see."

  "That doesn't seem hard."

  "Just do it." Harlow sounded a little afraid.

  Hill cautiously walked up to the edge of the path. The silver rippled and flowed like mercury, and he wondered if it would bear his weight. He hesitantly put a foot on the strange surface, and it felt solid.

  He started to feel anxious. A bold adventure into an alien unknown had sounded like a fine idea during the mission briefing, but the reality was quite intimidating.

  "How many other men have tried this?"

  "That's irrelevant," Harlow said. "Proceed."

  "Did they die?"

  "Sergeant Hill, you are in danger of insubordination. I gave you an order."

  Hill frowned. His training as a soldier compelled him to take another step despite the obvious danger.

  As soon as both feet were on the path, he began to move upwards. The path acted like a giant escalator. The ground dropped away with breathtaking speed.

  "Hello?" he said into his radio. "Am I still in contact?"

  He only heard a soft hiss.

  As Hill went higher, the entire sky brightened. It quickly became a hot, bright day instead of night. The sun was much bigger than the sun on Earth. He looked over the edge of the path and couldn't see the ground anymore. There was just more blue sky below. He started to believe he really was travelling to an alien world.

  The fabric in his suit stretched and stiffened, and he realized the air pressure was dropping. He forced himself to relax and breathe normally. He had a two hour oxygen supply.

  The suit's cooling system wasn't keeping up though. His hands and feet were already too hot.

  Hill decided he had seen enough for a first trip. He turned around and tried to run down the path, but it swept him upwards much faster than he could run.

  This could be a problem, he thought.

  His journey came to a sudden and surprising end. He found himself standing on a silver platform floating in empty space. The path had vanished.

  White mist collected in front of him and formed into a face. It was just an abstract representation with two eyes, a button nose, and a mouth.

  "Those are interesting clothes," the face said in a voice like wind passing through dry leaves.

  "You speak English?" Hill said.

  "No, but you hear English."

  Hill forced himself to remain calm. The quickly climbing temperature inside his suit didn't help. He also felt a tingling sensation in his extremities which couldn't be healthy. The sun blazed like an inferno. He knew if he didn't get back to Earth soon, he would die.

  "Are you an alien? Is this an alien world?"

  "No," the face said. "This is the outer fringe of Heaven. It gets more interesting further in."

  "What? How?" Hill looked a
round. "But that's not possible."

  The face smiled. "You are correct. It is impossible. You don't belong here."

  "Then send me back."

  "Let's compromise. I'll send back your body and keep your soul."

  Hill's armor collapsed inwards. He didn't even have time to scream.

  Chapter Eight

  Dr. Harlow heard a thump as something heavy struck the grassy field with tremendous force. He felt the impact through his feet.

  "Oh, no," he muttered.

  Thrown dirt showed where the impact had occurred. He walked over cautiously.

  He barely recognized what was left of Sergeant Hill. The armor was smashed and twisted, and blood was leaking from the joints. Something huge had stepped on him like a bug.

  Harlow suddenly felt sick. He turned and ran to a bush. He barely managed to avoid throwing up, but he stayed by the bush just in case. He closed his eyes and tried to think calming thoughts.

  "Get this body back to the lab!" Colonel Knox bellowed. "I want an autopsy! And pack everything else up. The experiment is done! We're leaving ASAP!"

  Harlow heard people moving through the grass, but he didn't look. He wasn't in any condition to help with the packing.

  A few minutes later, the sound of approaching footsteps forced him to open his eyes. Colonel Knox and Rena Penn were coming over. Harlow braced himself for a difficult conversation.

  "We need a new plan," Knox said.

  "The plan is to shut down the project," Penn said. "No more unnecessary deaths. No more reckless experiments. I'm going to fly to Washington in the morning and make that recommendation directly to the President. Thank you for asking me to wait, by the way. Now I have even more evidence that you people are dangerously out of control."

  Harlow gritted his teeth. "Ms. Penn, may I have a few minutes alone with my commander?"

  She looked back and forth between him and Knox. "Sure. Talk all you want." She walked off.

  As soon as she was gone, Harlow said in a harsh whisper, "We have to do something about her."

  "Do what?" Knox said. "She doesn't even work for me."

 

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