“One minute.”
The truck turned to the two-story building of the main dining room. It was nine o'clock in the evening and dinner had just started.
75. Military coup
“Well, here I am.”
Natasha came from the dining room shortly after her shift ended, excited, pleased and already preparing for the long-awaited flight away from the base. Putting all her surviving objects in the bag, she had time to brush her denim overalls, and apply a little makeup. This sudden change caused Donahue confusion, but Boris stayed calm - he has been aware of the girls ability instantly put them in order to look at its best just when it’s most needed. Self-discipline.
“My workmate’s lover, a marine, he said that the planes are already flying. They’ll set down for an hour, and then immediately begin loading. They are waiting to leave, and sick of this war.”
“And he didn’t say with whom they fought?”
Natasha shrugged.
“He said that those in the city experienced a new drug, something went wrong, and all who have tried this drug went crazy and started killing everyone they see. That's why they attacked us.”
Boris wanted to ask a few more questions, but didn’t do it; Natasha would not be able to answer. In the end, maybe they're right, and tonight a few large aircraft would arrive, the civilians would plunge inside and forever leave this smell of gunpowder and blood valley. He was also bored to death of staying in the refugee camp. It was time to go home.
“What is it?” Natasha interrupted her retelling of fresh rumors and pointed to the toy town. Boris turned around and saw a tiny black helicopter rising into the sky over the hospital; he had never seen such an aircraft before. The black unmanned helicopter hovered for a moment and then rushed forward, in the direction of the main buildings, like a big angry wasp. Boris remembered that only a couple of minutes ago, a truck had left toy town and gone in the same direction.
“Quickly run to the shelter!”
“What?”
Boris didn’t answer; the response was machine gun fire instead. Sirens wailed, and then there was a muffled explosion - turning, Boris saw the high radio mast fall on its side. The shooting became heavier, explosions rumbled one after the other, and it was all happening there, behind the runway, deep inside the protected area.
Even before his arrival, Chief had carefully read all the information about this small naval base, where he would have to work for some time. He knew the area, knew where the senior officers should be according to the combat schedule, he knew all the key objects. Here was the command post, drone control room, broadcasting center, dining room, where dinner had already started, and the well-guarded entrance to the main arsenal. If someone was planning an attack on the base, then these objects would be subject to attack in the first instance. And it was Chief starting this attack.
Sending an assault group to the dining room, he returned to the command module, and sat down at the remote control of the unmanned helicopter, which had already taken off. They had carried this tiny fighting machine for a long time, but it had never been used in a real fight. The unmanned aerial predator was small, and the fuel reserve lasted for only thirty minutes, but the weapon was serious - four guided missiles with powerful thermobaric warheads, ideal for the destruction of enemy fortifications. Bronson confidently lifted the drone and rushed at maximum speed to the center of the base, counting the remaining seconds until the moment when the truck would be near the dining room. He saw a couple of guards, who watched the helicopter flying over them in a puzzled fashion, and got to the command post. There was a signal that the truck had arrived at the drop zone, and then it began.
Here it was - a wide window on the second floor; Bronson had been there a few times. This was Richardson’s study, and directly under it was the central control station, where the senior officers must be, unsuccessfully trying to find Colonel.
A guided missile flew into the window, and the small building fell like a deck of cards, but Bronson didn’t watch it, instead turning the drone and taking aim at the next two targets – the drone control room and broadcasting center. Two shots with a two second interval – the targets were destroyed, and Chief again turned the helicopter, sending it to the dining room, where the shooting was becoming stronger. An armored car was stopped at the crossroads near the burning truck, from which came continuous shots, marines shooting the infected running from the dining room. They need to open the way, and Chief did it by hitting the enemy machine with his last missile.
76. Radical solution
“What's going on there?”
“Infection on the base! There’s a fight in central barracks! Apparently, some of the personnel were infected, but hid it, and Colonel’s men didn’t noticed. There's shooting everywhere, we can’t contact Richardson or senior officers, and I don’t know who is in command here! We are in a fight for our position, covering the refugee camp, where the infected are trying to break in, they are armed, we need…”
Palmer's voice was drowned in an explosion, and then Walt could only hear the roar of guns and hissing noise. Francis didn’t respond to his calls.
“There’s confirmation from the satellite - fighting throughout the base.”
The satellite pictures resembled the images of the burning city, made two days earlier. Destroyed and burning buildings, corpses in the streets. Only now it wasn’t an unknown city, it was happening in their base, close to the refugee camp, research complex and airfield, where the Hercules stood ready to fly.
His plane turned at the last moment, and then they were flying back at full speed. If we’d taken off two hours earlier, we would have landed at the airport in the epicenter of infection, thought Walt, trying to call his bosses.
No one answered, because panic reigned at the headquarters. The founders of Prometheus were missing, and Walt wasn’t surprised by this – now, when the infection had penetrated to the base, and dead citizens numbered in the hundreds, they would try to forget where it all started. Most likely, those rich bastards were already looking for a suitable scapegoat, Walt realized. But that would be later, once the dust had settled and the full extent of the disaster was known. And now they had a full-scale outbreak in their own territory, for which no one was prepared.
“Walt, what should we do? We are waiting for instructions!” The coordinator looked at him from the screen, furious.
“Standard instructions for this situation - further spread of infection must be prevented at any cost. We have already lost the base, and research complex, together with the refugee camps. The greatest danger at the moment is helicopters and the plane standing at the airport. The infected may try to steal them and leave the valley. If they cross the mountains, and make a landing on the other side of the ridge…
“There are densely populated areas where the infection will spread with great speed. And then huge flows of refugees, who will carry Zero Model further. At that point quarantine will not help; we can’t cover the entire continent. Considering the number of illegal migrants going to the USA every day – in a couple of weeks the infection will spread on our streets, in our homes. We have the last chance to stop it now!
“It needs a strong and accurate strike to the airfield. It’s necessary to destroy aircraft, helicopters, all cars, as well as the arsenal so that the infected can’t get the weapons. Do that in time - and the infection will not be able to escape.”
“And the refugee camp? What do we do with them?”
“We have already lost it! Judging by the intensity of the fight, the infected are quickly taking the entire territory. And we can’t send reinforcements there. Destroy the airfield - that's what we must do immediately!”
Walt saw arguing officers behind the coordinator. It was too late to send bombers, they would take up to two hours to get above the valley, even if the planes took off from a nearby base, and they can’t use the local air force. This was the beginning of war.
“Sir - Michigan is five hundred and eig
hty-six miles from the base, just returned from combat duty. It has full ammunition on board.”
“How much time will it take?”
“For us to get in touch, pass over target coordinates, launch, flight time - about an hour and ten minutes from now.”
The coordinator sat silently for a moment, pondering this alternative. Walt wouldn’t want to be in his place, although he had troubles enough.
“Strike at the airfield as soon as possible.”
77. Radical solution-2
“We are cut off on the runway and can’t come to you; we are fighting at the refugee camp, they are already on our positions!”
So, one of the officers had survived and taken command of the remaining garrison. The marines kept a perimeter, defending the central barracks, dry dock and shipyard. How many of them were there? About a hundred or so, it looked like, fighting against former colleagues. The infected assault group had struck the strategic target - the main dining room, where a hundred and fifty people were at that time, the vast majority unarmed, except for a few guns on officers and military police. The Chief’s fighters suppressed attempts at resistance, and then the infected crowd spilled out.
Disorderly battle spread throughout the territory for a few minutes, each fighting randomly and no one in command - most officers had been killed in the command post, a few more in the dining room. The brain of the new carriers are far from irreversible destruction, despite the wounds and shock; they haven’t lost their fighting skills and go on the hunt for blood with guns from the arsenal, which was opened by Chief’s fighters.
The surviving marines beat a retreat to the central barracks, and Bronson meanwhile did his job - he needed to hurry. The sniper team took positions on hangar roofs and port cranes, with accurate shots suppressing the resistance, primarily killing officers. Two platoons in armored cars broke into the harbor and immediately took a long pier with moored patrol boats, as well as part of the naval workshops with staff. They didn’t move on further, the strongest squad of marines holding the defense in shipyard. They had managed to start a couple of M2 Bradley and now fended off waves of the infected.
The Chief’s fighters also managed to steal one of the heavy armored vehicles and immediately drove it to a refugee camp. Some infected realized that getting the blood of refugee would be much easier and, instead of attacking the barracks, rushed to the tent camp, which must now be held at all costs. Bronson led the battle, using Bradley to fend off infected competitors, who tried to overcome the open space of the runway.
“The boats will be ready in ten minutes!”
“Send mines at the rest of the ships in the harbor and wait for us!”
Another attack was repulsed and rigid order restored in the tent camp. Palmer and her specialists continued their special assignment. Civilians at gunpoint were forced to give a large amount of blood, which was immediately packaged in strong sealable containers.
The blood stocks would last for a while, but Palmer didn’t want to take risks and preferred to carry a constant source of fuel for the nanomachines. Bees were needed for honey, cows for milk, and for the production of human blood they needed humans. Preparing in advance for this, Palmer found suitable candidates for donors, and now the Chief’s thugs collected healthy men and women, a total of about twenty. Timid attempts to resist or slow down the process were quickly suppressed with executions, and further work was done without delay, despite the battle that went on at the border of the refugee camp.
“Here is a list of who we need.”
Palmer shook her head, looking at the long list - too many passengers. No, these weren’t donors; the people on the list were required for other purposes. It was filled with dozens of highly skilled professionals; they would be useful in the near future. But why did Chief want to take a few managers, stockbrokers and other crooks together with their wives and children, if they were in the camp? The larger the group, the harder it was to move it. Well, Chief was leading the operation, let him deal with this, Francis decided, watching as mercenaries pulled them out of the terrified crowd, beating those who resisted.
“I repeat, we are cut off…”
Chief continued to mislead the commander of the marines, telling him that his team was fighting with infected on the other side of runway, and therefore couldn’t come and help. Thus, he was able to learn the main thing - there was no communication with headquarters, and no one knew that Chief and his group had revolted. And soon his bosses will hide all traces, later stages of the operation begun.
“Move!”
78. Radical solution-3
The battle had just begun, and Boris pushed Natasha and Donahue into the destroyed shelter, where direct missiles had killed more than fifty people last night. Most of the trench had collapsed, and there was dried blood everywhere, but it didn’t matter. What mattered now was that in this hole they could escape from fire, at a time when the battle had begun on all sides.
“Don’t stick your head out!”
Boris sent his companions down, and pressed against the rusty steel stairs, occasionally looking out, trying to understand what was happening. The military base was burning, flame making it way through the roofs of hangars and barracks, and a huge torch rose over the fuel storage. There was shooting everywhere, and a well-armed group, coming from the toy town, moved towards the refugee camp. Boris ducked low to avoid being noticed, and when he looked up he saw that a camp was already captured, mercenaries driving the civilians to the central tents. The armored vehicles crept onto runway, automatic guns shooting periodically into the evening darkness.
“What's going on?”
“Shut up!”
The battle on the base continued, but Boris wasn’t looking there. All his attention was focused on the tents, where men with guns herded refugees. It was definitely not marines, probably mercenaries of a private army, engineers and doctors scurrying amongst them. It wasn’t clear what they were doing, but the few civilians who tried to escape were shot without warning.
A truck convoy drove from the burning base onto the runway, and the Bradley ceased fire, allowing them to pass. They went a little further and the trucks entered the camp, turned around and reversing to the tents.
“Quickly, start loading!”
Mercenaries pushed civilians into the trucks, while doctors loaded large steel boxes. A stocky man in a military uniform and a tall woman in a gray cloak walked past the shelter, and Boris heard a piece of conversation.
“We need to get away unnoticed.”
“Don’t worry; our bosses will do the work for us. Forty-five minutes, an hour maximum, and everything here will be erased. Go!”
Engines roared again, trucks moving on the runway, heading to the harbor. The Bradley made last shots at an invisible target, and then retreated from the scene, following the trucks. The caterpillar’s clanging gradually subsided, and all was quiet in the refugee camp, with only the sound of distant shots and roaring flames. Civilians began to emerge from unguarded tents, and then Boris decided that they couldn’t wait any longer in this hole.
“Climb out quickly!”
After rising to the surface, Natasha looked around in amazement. Donahue was trying to find someone among the refugees, but Boris strongly pushed them forward, toward the runway.
“Move, we have to run!”
“Run to where?”
“Anywhere, just away from here!”
He didn’t tell them about the stranger’s conversation, just ran forward, remembering the time limit, after which everything here would be erased. The toy town suddenly caught fire and in the flame they saw hundreds of dark figures running to the refugee camp.
“Faster, here!”
Boris pushed his companions into the drainage ditch, with strong punches forcing them to fall in the mud and crawl forward, without looking up. Behind, at the refugee camp gates, fierce shooting began. They heard screams and explosions from the left side - some of the refugees had tried to escape through the waste
land, and ran into a minefield.
“Hands up!”
A flashlight slapped them in the face.
“Come here, the girl first!”
They slowly rose and then Boris could see his enemies in the glare of fire - a marine with a wound on the throat and a girl in a uniform, with the badge "Sarah", and a gun in her bloodied hand. Sarah pointed the Colt at Boris and Donahue and the marine caught Natasha, trying to grab her throat. Natasha shouted, struggling to fight back. Sarah turned for a moment and Boris immediately hit her in the stomach with a sharpened stone fragment, which he had hidden in his high boots. With a crunch he broke her arm and tore the gun away, kicking her aside. The marine threw Natasha down and tried to take up his gun, but Boris was faster, putting a bullet in the enemy’s left eye.
“Behind you!”
The wounded girl rushed at them, screaming hysterically; Boris fired three shots, and then picked up the machine gun - he heard the rapid breathing of their enemies, they were approaching. He shot two short bursts, at almost point-blank range. “Run!”
79. Radical solution-4
“Listen to me; you have to act immediately, without wasting a single minute! Almost the entire garrison and staff are infected. They opened the arsenal and hijacked armored vehicles, and are trying to use helicopters! There was a massacre in the refugee camp; all of them are dead or infected. We have seen that they are trying to use a plane, the infected have pilots! They will be able to act reasonably for one full day and will certainly try to escape from the valley. If the infected cross the mountains and reach the big cities, then nothing will stop the spread of infection. We will be looking at disaster on a planetary scale! Quarantine won’t help, nor reinforcements; only the complete destruction of the base, burn everything there! It’s necessary to kill all the infected, so that none of them survive. A single carrier would be enough to start a global epidemic. We are surrounded, almost all of us dead, they stormed the central complex! I call the fire, beat… what?”
Vampire's Day (Book 2): Zero Model Page 18