Ripper

by David L. Golemon

  Sarah started forward, but Farbeaux grabbed her and threw her back, sending her crashing into the enclosure where Cetshwayo was laid out in his temperature-controlled sleep. Henri charged, moving slowly due to his loss of blood, but charge he did. He planted the spear deep into the giant’s chest, pulled it free, and then struck at it again. The beast was so shocked at the sudden and vicious strikes that it half turned and kicked out with its leg. The giant’s foot struck the Frenchman and sent him flying the length of the large vault where he hit the wall and bounced off, striking the floor and remaining still.

  The once-upon-a-time soldier roared in triumph as it regained the initiative and came on. The defenders saw their fate moving toward them and would have liked to have continued the fight but knew they had nothing left to fight with.

  Suddenly the vault erupted with bright flashes of light and the creature turned away from its intended victims only to be met by a withering wave of gunfire from outside the doorframe. At least a hundred and fifty rounds struck the future of soldiering, with the bullets that struck its head dropping the already wounded beast in the doorway. The next thing they saw was a large man in black Nomex battle dress jump atop the still moving creature and empty a full magazine into it.

  Sarah held Farbeaux and Gloria roused Virginia from the floor. Denise Gilliam stepped forward and looked up at the man still standing atop the downed beast.

  Captain Carl Everett winked at a still-reeling Virginia Pollock.

  “You want to really apologize for that cheap shot you gave me in the football game, Doc?”

  Virginia shook her aching head, trying to clear it further. “Okay, I did it on purpose.”

  “Uh huh,” Everett said as he hopped down from the back of the dead mercenary. “You owe me and my men here dinner … no, a lobster dinner.”

  “I’m not that sorry,” Virginia said as she hugged the blonde captain. The vault filled with the remnants of Everett’s fire team who had finally made it to the armory on level forty-two and were now assisting with a wounded Farbeaux and the others.

  “Okay, we have to get these people out of—”

  Everett saw the giant shadow rise from behind him. He saw the reaction of every person still inside the vault when the beast they thought they had killed rose from the supposed land of everlasting peace they had sent him to.

  “Oh, damn, the bastard’s right behind me isn’t he?” Everett said just as the beast screamed in triumph and sprang at Carl’s exposed back.

  Suddenly a deafening roar filled every square inch of level sixty-one. The heavy popping noise pierced through the air and almost knocked everyone standing inside to the floor with its power. As Everett dove for cover he felt the heavy impact of metal against flesh. Before he hit the floor he heard the slap and thump of something hitting the beast. The creature was struck so hard that it didn’t have time to react to the attack.

  “Jesus!” Carl called out as he turned over on his back to see round after round strike the beast in the chest, legs, neck, and head, sending it reeling backward. The fifty-caliber bullets kept filling the air to the point that the echoes and the actual sounds of the rounds exploding became one and the same.

  Silence filled the air and then they all heard the voice outside.

  “Hah, got you! That looks like it hurt!”

  Everett tried to stand on shaky legs. He looked over at Sarah who was holding the head of Henri Farbeaux in her lap. Once standing, Carl walked to the doorway and looked out. He had to smile when he saw the face of Will Mendenhall as he leaned against the large electric cart that held the still-smoking Browning fifty-caliber machine gun.

  “Nice gun,” Everett said as he leaned against the sill of the vault.

  “I’ve got a torpedo bomber that comes with it.”

  Will stepped inside and helped the others leave their small sanctuary. It was Gloria who came up and gave Will a deep, well-meaning kiss on the lips.

  “What about the reactor?” Sarah asked.

  “Europa says we have someone down there restarting the cooling pumps right now, but we still have to get the hell out of here,” Everett said.

  Sarah and Denise helped the unconscious Frenchman sit up.

  “Carl, give us a hand,” Sarah said as she struggled with Henri’s weight.

  “Do I have to?”

  LEVEL EIGHTY-FOUR

  “There is now three minutes, seventeen seconds until core meltdown,” Europa announced just as Smith attacked the two men.

  Collins quickly pushed Charlie Ellenshaw out of the way as Smith hit him full force, sending him flying once more across the reactor room. The creature laughed as it turned on Ellenshaw.

  Crazy Charlie knew he had to get to Jack because he didn’t know where the fuse box for the cooling pumps was located. He hurriedly scrambled back behind the water tanks, turned, and made his way toward the spot where the colonel had landed. Instead of coming after him, Smith went for the stunned Collins fifteen feet away.

  Jack opened his eyes as he took short, painful gasps of air into his damaged lungs. He felt the heavy steps of Smith as he came forward to finish the job. The drool hit Jack’s back as the beast stood over his prone body. Jack tried desperately to get his hand under his body as he knew he only had seconds before Smith stomped him to death.

  “I remember you now—Jack Collins, Fifth Special Forces Group, Afghanistan, 2004,” came the horrid deep and booming voice. Smith chuckled. “You going to tell Congress about this, Collins?” the beast asked as it reached down and picked Jack up by the body armor collar and lifted him to face level.

  Jack opened his eyes and spit blood into the distorted face of Smith who raised his free hand and wiped the blood away, licking his fingers as he made a yummy sound deep in his throat.

  Charlie charged at the creature’s back, not firing his weapon as before for fear of hitting the colonel. He jumped onto Smith’s back and started pummeling the giant with his thin-fingered fists.

  Smith shook his body vigorously until he dislodged Ellenshaw. Charlie hit the hard floor and lay still.

  “He is irritating. Is that the best you can do Collins?” The fetid breath struck Jack, helping to bring him around.

  “You now have one minute, fifty-one seconds to reach safe distance. Core meltdown is imminent.”

  Jack heard Europa’s calm voice and smiled, wondering why he had never been able to find the culprit who had altered her voice synthesizer to that of the deceased Hollywood sex goddess.

  “Drop the colonel and back away,” said a voice in back of Jack, “you ugly son of a bitch!”

  Smith looked up and saw twenty men facing him. But still he smiled as he knew they would never kill him in time to stop his eventual suicide.

  “Come and get him,” boomed the unnatural voice as the beast raised Jack up closer to its head and almost unhinged its jaw as it opened its mouth wide with laughter, realizing that any rescue was now too late. It wouldn’t be stopped.

  Jack found his opening. He had what he had reached for in his hand as Smith opened his mouth with that irritating laugh of his. Jack had already pulled the pin on the grenade before he had been lifted free of the floor. He drew his arm back and then let the safety handle pop free. He slammed the round grenade as hard as he could into Smith’s exposed mouth. He broke teeth off as the beast realized what had happened. Smith let Jack fall free and then tried desperately to dig the grenade from his large and deformed mouth.

  As Jack hit the floor he rolled away, damaging his ribs even more. He finally stopped and managed to look up.

  “Fuckhead,” Jack whispered lowering his head and covering up just as the grenade detonated.

  Smith’s eyes widened when he realized what was in his mouth. His fingers finally managed to lock around the object and as he tried to pull it free, it went off, sending brain matter and skull bone out in an arc that covered the two reactor vessels.

  Before Collins knew it, hands were on him, turning him over. He opened his eyes into
the smiling face hovering over him.

  “Hello Jack.”

  “Grateful Dead, I’ll be damned,” Jack whispered.

  “That you will my friend. It looks like we were a bit too late to save the day here, so I guess all us grunts are damned,” Garcia said as he cocked an ear upward just as Europa sounded her final warning.

  “Detonation of nuclear material will occur in one minute and forty-one seconds.”

  “The fuses,” Jack said low in his throat.

  “What’s that, Jack?” Garcia asked.

  Suddenly the warning alarms ceased. The red and yellow reactor lights started to slow their steady pulse and Europa made her last announcement as Collins tried raising his head.

  “Core temperature has now been stabilized at six hundred fifty-two degrees. Coolant flow has been restored.”

  Garcia helped Collins sit up as Charlie Ellenshaw came around the number ten water tank. He was waving his hands through the air as if to cool them. He grimaced as he saw the DELTA team and even Colonel Collins looking at his burnt hands.

  “I couldn’t find the damn fuse box for the pumps. And then I didn’t know that you couldn’t push the fuses back in with the switch handle in the on position. That freaking hurt!” Crazy Charlie said as he waved his charred hands through the air.

  “Hmm,” Major Garcia said as he looked down at the man who had trained him ten years before. “One minute and forty seconds to spare. You’re getting old Jack; you used to be exciting.”

  Collins closed his eyes and passed out.

  LEVEL EIGHT

  Doctor Denise Gilliam had every bed and most desks filled with wounded men and women. Virginia, Sarah, and Gloria had volunteered to assist the doctor as she tried to bring things under some kind of control. Niles Compton was complaining more than anyone that he would like a real doctor to help him as Virginia did her best to place the temporary cast on his ankle.

  Two men no one recognized stepped into the clinic. They stopped and noticed Denise Gilliam attending her patients.

  “You got room for one more Doctor?” a large man asked as he slung a weapon over his shoulder.

  “Sure, the more the merrier,” Denise said with weariness lacing her voice. “Who is it?”

  “Well, he may be one of yours. We found him passed out on the loading dock about a half hour ago.”

  “What makes you think he’s one of mine?” Denise asked as curiosity finally made her look up from one of Everett’s security men.

  The two strangers looked at each other and everyone could tell they wanted to laugh but held back.

  “Well, ma’am, he’s wearing what looks like a candy striper’s outfit.”

  “He?” Denise asked.

  “Bring him in,” the first man called through the door.

  As everyone inside the clinic waited, even the director stopped complaining long enough to watch. Two other men in black clothing brought a third man in and laid him down on one of the desks.

  Will Mendenhall had to stand up and shake his head in wonder. Sarah’s eyes widened, and Niles had to laugh at the escapee from a hospital in downtown Las Vegas.

  Jason Ryan, still replete in his stolen candy striper’s uniform, managed to look up to see where he was and then lay his head back down.

  “Is this the best you can do for a bed, after all I went through to get back here?”

  Denise walked over and shook her head at the naval aviator. Then she smiled.

  “You know, that’s not a bad look for you Mr. Ryan.”

  “I know.”

  Sarah finally got her smile under control and stopped by to check on Henri. He was lying in bed sans handcuffs with his eyes closed. He had a whole pint of blood dripping into his veins from an IV line attached to his right arm. McIntire was about to turn away when she heard his voice whisper.

  “Please tell me this is some of your blood my dear,” he said so low she had to bend over to hear him.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Henri, but I think you have some of Mendenhall’s blood in you. The blood bank went bad because of no electricity.”

  Henri managed to look up and around until he saw Mendenhall sitting on a desk a few feet away getting his head bandaged by a highly attentive Gloria Bannister. Mendenhall saw the Frenchman looking his way and raised his right hand, extending his middle finger.

  “I knew you liked me Lieutenant.”

  Sarah smiled, but she knew she had to leave the clinic before the smell of blood and medicine did her in. She stepped into the hallway and Henri watched her as she leaned against the glass. He watched her and knew that he was in love with the woman and wanted to tell her. But he also knew he was going to prison, and he knew that she didn’t love him. She loved Collins and would for a very long time, even if he was dead.

  As he started to lie down he saw Sarah straighten from the wall. He watched as she frowned and then started crying. She stepped forward as two men carried a third man in between them and threw her arms around the man being assisted. Henri Farbeaux felt his heart sink when he saw the familiar face of Jack Collins as he allowed Sarah to hold him. The two men carrying Collins looked away as Sarah McIntire welcomed Jack Collins back to the Event Group.

  Farbeaux turned away and closed his eyes against the harsh florescent lighting.

  BALTIMORE, MARYLAND

  The Baltimore state trooper watched as the two bodies were loaded into the ambulance. He shook his head at the senseless violence that happened on a daily basis along the Baltimore Beltway.

  It was evident from the car that was still sitting on its jack stand and the spare tire lying nearby that the two women had stopped to fix a flat late at night. The two bodies had been found fifty feet from the car. Each had been shot once in the chest and left sprawled in the high grass close to the Beltway. This hadn’t been the only occurrence of violence on this stretch of road. There had been seven other murders, some drive-bys, others like the one he just recorded in his notebook, a senseless killing, probably at random, of two people changing a tire after a night out.

  The trooper was approached by his sergeant. “We ID the driver?” he asked, also shaking his head as the bodies were finally sealed inside the ambulance.

  “Yeah, we found her identification in her car. The younger woman we haven’t discovered anything about yet. The driver is Lynn Simpson. She has a company badge.”

  “Yeah, what company?” the sergeant asked as the ambulance drove away.

  “That’s why I called you out here, Sarge. She worked for the CIA.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  EVENT GROUP COMPLEX

  NELLIS AFB, NEVADA

  Niles Compton listened to the president speak, but his words became almost unintelligible as he listened. With his ankle in a cast, Niles was forced to sit and listen to his old friend. After the president said his piece he waited for Compton to say something. He waited for a long time as his friend sat stunned at the news that had been delivered. He was so stunned he couldn’t speak.

  “Niles, would it help if I called and gave him the news?” the president asked.

  Compton finally looked up and into his friend’s eyes. “You know Jack is not going to buy this bullshit the Maryland State Police are telling you.”

  The president shook his head. “Why should he, I don’t. I’ve ordered CIA Director Easterbrook and the FBI to give this investigation a full-court press. I want to know what happened. I’m not a believer in coincidence.”

  Niles sat and listened, maybe believing his old friend, maybe not. He was fast becoming a skeptic in such matters as governing a country.

  “We have a detailed briefing by Pete Golding in two days. I think maybe you better be here to hear what he and Europa have to say,” Niles said.

  “I’ll see what I can—”

  “Mr. President, I never ask you for anything, yet you have asked me for everything. I want you here to learn what in the hell we’re dealing with. Then you can take your ball and go home.”

  The
president saw that Niles Compton was in no mood to hear anything other than yes.

  “Okay, Baldy, I’ll be there in two days. Also I want Colonel Farbeaux transferred to FBI custody when he’s able to travel.”

  Niles nodded his head without really answering and reached out and shut off the computer with the president’s image still on it, breaking every rule of etiquette and protocol on the books. He didn’t want to discuss the fate of the Frenchman and knew his friend the president just wanted to remind him he was still in charge. Compton reached over and hit his intercom switch to connect with the computer center.

  “Golding,” came the quick response.

  “Pete, ask Europa the location of Lieutenant McIntire.”

  “Okay,” he said and returned just a second later. “She’s located in suite nine, level eight.”

  Colonel Collins’s room?”

  “Yes.”

  * * *

  Sarah watched Jack as he in turn looked at her. She reached out, took his hand, and smiled.

  “You took your time leaving Alice’s house,” she said.

  “You know me, I had to finish painting or Alice would have thrown a fit.”

  Sarah shook her head. Then she became serious. “Jack?”

  “Yeah, short stuff?”

  “Colonel Farbeaux, what’s going to happen to him?”

  “That’s not up to me, but I imagine he’s bound for trial for the murder of our people and possibly many others.”

  Sarah bit her lower lip. “Do you believe he killed people from our Group or murdered innocents from anywhere?” she asked watching him closely. “I mean, do you really think he’s capable of cold-blooded murder?”

  “Doesn’t seem to be his style does it? But I wasn’t here in the bad old days. I just don’t know,” he added. “But deep down? Yes, I believe Henri has killed in the coldest blood possible in the past.”

  Jack watched Sarah closely. He knew she was feeling indebted to the Frenchman for coming after her in Mexico. But he also knew there was something else he couldn’t quite grasp. The why of it, he supposed. He saw the sadness in her eyes when he had hinted at Henri’s fate.

  “Listen, I think—”