Cassie’s eyebrows bunched together.
“There’s more,” Alice whispered from behind Dr. Ireland.
“There were other cases within a span of about two hundred kilometers—Grande Prairie, Dawson Creek, just outside of Prince George—other people also passed out. In total, there were seven of you… but there may still be others, especially in the more isolated native communities.”
Cassie shook her head. “What?”
“All at the exact same moment,” Dr. Ireland said.
“The others didn’t wake up again,” Elizabeth said. “The Lord took them.”
“What?” Cassie’s head whipped toward the other woman.
Dr. Ireland raised her hand to motion to Elizabeth to be silent. “This is true. We don’t know what happened, but not long after they passed out, the five others slipped into comas and passed away.”
“People died?” Cassie whispered.
“It seems the stress of this… incident, whatever it was, was too much. They went into cardiac arrest and couldn’t be resuscitated. Most of them were elderly, not young like you and Elizabeth. One was a baby.”
“Oh my God.” Cassie’s hand flew to cover her mouth.
“This is why we’re real happy to see you awake again. That’s a great sign. You were the last one.”
“You’ve been chosen,” said Elizabeth. “Just like me.”
Cassie stared at Elizabeth and then back at Dr. Ireland. “What are you talking about?” She gripped the doctor’s wrists suddenly, perhaps too tightly. “All of us just passed out, all at the same time? That’s not possible. You know that’s not possible.”
“We don’t know yet what happened,” said the doctor. “But clearly something has happened.”
“Tell her the rest,” Elizabeth blurted. “She’s been chosen. She deserves to know about all the miracles.”
“Will you shut the hell up?” Alice snapped at her. “Mind your own goddamned business.”
The young woman looked away but not before mumbling something under her breath about sinners.
“Miracles?” asked Cassie. “What’s she talking about?”
“Don’t worry about that now,” said Dr. Ireland. “We can talk about that later.”
“We’re gonna figure this out, Cassie,” said Alice. “We will. The hospital staff are all working really hard. The government will—”
“The government will do nothing,” said Elizabeth. “The End of Days is upon us.”
The back of Cassie’s neck became hot, and a strange sensation coursed through her. Somehow, it reminded her of the bear attack, the electrical storm. The weirdest thing of all, though, was that she was certain the source of the sensation was Elizabeth. She stared wide-eyed at the other woman. Once again, she felt that odd metallic taste in the back of her throat.
And then the pages of the Bible on Elizabeth’s lap began to turn on their own, flipping back and forth as if invisible fingers moved them. Elizabeth’s gaze met Cassie’s, filled with fierce triumph.
* * *
Colonel Oscar Redford McKnight placed the handset for the secure telephone back in its cradle, removed his reading glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. As a soldier of African American descent, he had overcome more challenges during his long career in US Special Operations Command—SOCOM—than he could easily count, but today was turning out to be a real bitch. He was used to difficulties and the occasional ass chewing, but the conversation he had just had with the Canadian project director in Ottawa had been something special. It made a lie of the myth that Canadians were overly polite. And it wasn’t just Ottawa—his own political masters in Washington were already making veiled threats about sending someone else down to take command of Task Force Devil and Operation Rubicon if he didn’t get a grip on the recent series of shitshows that his command was turning into. He was only forty-six years old, but at the moment, he felt more like sixty.
What he needed was a vacation or maybe a visit with Louise and the girls. Neither would be a possibility anytime soon. Leaning back in his chair, he absentmindedly ran his thumb over his tie—he was accustomed to combat uniforms, not suits. The only people wearing combat uniforms here were the security forces and the operators despite the fact that many of the two hundred people working at the Site C Dam complex—jokingly referred to by the operators of Task Force Devil as the “Magic Kingdom”—were military. The others, all civilians—engineers, construction workers, and scientists—were employees of the Canadian and US Government, carefully vetted and sworn to secrecy. There were no defense contractors here—no shortcuts on security. Everyone employed within the task force was subject to constant monitoring, impromptu lie-detector testing, and the unspoken promise of government retribution if they stepped an inch out of line. Some secrets had to be kept even at the cost to civil liberties.
He picked up the red file with the reports he had been sent from Ottawa on the recent bizarre occurrences, got up from his mahogany desk, and crossed the floor of his office to stare out the window, his hands jammed into his pants pockets. The pristine beauty of northern British Columbia always took his breath away, and today was no exception. He had the best office view on the planet, overlooking a bend in the Peace River where the Site C Dam had been built. Sprawling before him was the earth-filled dam and reservoir, its calm surface sparkling in the midday sun. Someone knocked on his office door, ruining his only calm moment of the day. He exhaled, set his shoulders, and faced the door. “In,” he called out.
The door swung open, exposing the three people McKnight was expecting: Major Wallace Buchanan, Captain Alex Benoit, and Dr. Helena Simmons. The three of them couldn’t have been more different. Buchanan—Buck—was a longtime veteran of Delta Force and the senior tactical operator for the US contingent of Task Force Devil. They knew each other well, having served together in El Salvador. Not all of their history was good, however. Buck had a nasty temper and a tendency to resort to violence. On the other hand, he was damned good at being violent, which came in very handy when you absolutely, positively needed to kill someone.
Benoit—Alex—was very different. In truth, he was exactly the type of fine young man that McKnight liked to command in covert operations. Unremarkable in appearance, thoroughly professional in his duties, he consistently achieved superb results. A native of the province of Newfoundland, he still spoke with a trace of a maritime accent that McKnight had always found charming. Alex was the senior Canadian Special Forces officer assigned to Task Force Devil and a member of Canada’s elite Joint Task Force 2.
The last person to enter the office, Dr. Helena Simmons, was middle-aged and slightly overweight. She always wore a somewhat stunned look on her face, giving the impression that she was overwhelmed by life. In fact, she possessed a razor-sharp mind and was, without a doubt, the most intelligent and capable person McKnight had ever worked with—she had a doctorate in experimental physics. He had no doubt that she was the smartest person standing in his office. He needed that intellect today more than ever.
Buck plopped himself down on the plush leather visitor’s couch in the center of the office. Alex waited for Helena to seat herself then also sat down, his hands resting on his knees. McKnight settled into the lounge chair and observed the three visitors from across the glass coffee table. He tapped the red file against his lap. “So here’s the problem. Somehow, and unless one of you have already figured it out…” He paused while he waited for one of them to speak up. When none did, he continued. “Somehow, we’ve had a breach.”
Buck leaned forward. “Sir, the Jump Tube is secure.”
Helena shook her head and glanced quickly at Buck. “I don’t think the colonel is referring to the Gateway Machine, are you, Colonel?”
McKnight shook his head. “This isn’t us.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Helena looked as if she were about to throw up, and Buck looked confused.
“Sir. How is that possible?” Buck asked.
McKni
ght opened the file on his lap and picked up the first page. There was a RCMP logo on it. “Three days ago, during the massive gamma-radiation spike we were tracking and the unusual weather patterns, several huge…” McKnight paused. His eyes drifted to the page in his hand, and he read, “Demonic, wolflike creatures trailing fire from their mouths were seen running away from a bushfire on the outskirts of Fort St. John.”
“I…” Buck paused.
“Demonic wolf dogs that breathe fire, Major. Sound familiar?”
Buck sighed. “Those are the creatures that hit us on Rubicon, sir. This can’t be a coincidence.”
“No. No it can’t, can it? We have a problem—one that our handlers in Ottawa and Washington are now aware of. Helena, can you help? Do we have any theories?”
Helena raised her hands, inhaled deeply, then lowered them again, wiping her palms on her knees. “A working theory only, Colonel. I think you’re right. Somehow, we have had a breach. But I have no idea how. Maybe—and I’m entirely speculating now—maybe there was some kind of… unintentional resonating event.”
“An unintentional resonating event?” McKnight heard the skepticism in his own voice.
“I just don’t know, Colonel,” said Helena. “It shouldn’t be possible, but the gamma radiation we recorded was identical to what we see during an entry mission.”
“I was hoping for more, Helena. Even the politicians in Ottawa and Washington have come to the same conclusion, and they’re looking for solutions.”
Buck scowled, his eyes turning into slits. “Useless-ass politicians,” he muttered.
McKnight closed his eyes, seeking calm. “Our political leaders have a right to be concerned, Major. We have dead soldiers. And now we have what looks like an unintended transdimensional breach, alien infestation, and worst of all, civilians passing out and dying. Civilians, gentlemen. The very people we’re sworn to defend. This is really, really bad.”
“We don’t know if the civilian thing has anything to do with us,” Buck said. “It could have been a gas leak… or something.”
McKnight leaned forward. “A gas leak, Major? A gas leak that occurred over a two-hundred-kilometer area and affected less than a dozen people out of how many thousands? And of those that were affected, only three have survived?” McKnight paused and inhaled deeply. “And all this just happened to take place at the exact same time we had our unintentional resonating event?”
“No,” said Buck. “I… I see your point, sir.”
“This is getting out of hand,” said McKnight. “You see that, right?”
“Sir,” said Alex, contributing for the first time. “I agree with Helena. There’s been a breach, and we need to determine where it was and if it’s still open.”
“I don’t think it is,” said Helena. “The gamma spiking was only elevated for a brief time. Whatever caused the breach, I’m fairly certain it’s no longer open. We’d know.”
“Fairly certain?” Alex asked.
Helena sighed. “Reasonably certain.”
Reasonably? Jesus Christ. What are we going to do? McKnight looked from one to the other, then he turned his attention back to the file on his lap and flipped through the papers. “Of the three people that we know survived this… event, two have demonstrated… unusual abilities.”
“Yes, Colonel,” answered Helena. “I’d call them psychic abilities—if there were such a thing—which there isn’t… or rather shouldn’t be.”
“Seems like there is now, doesn’t it?” Alex said. “We’ve all seen what he can do.”
“Any explanations for what Mr. Hocking is able to do, Helena?” asked McKnight.
She sighed and shook her head. “No. I have no scientific explanation, Colonel. Psychic abilities is about as… alternative as I’m willing to go. But testing is ongoing with Mr. Hocking as we speak. The preliminary results have been very interesting so far, but it’s too soon to make a definitive judgment.”
McKnight sighed. “Well, thank God he’s agreed to help us, because we need to understand what’s happened, and we need to understand it fast.”
“There’s another possibility,” said Helena.
McKnight paused, glancing at the doctor. “Let’s hear it, then.”
“We’ve crossed over numerous times now, but we don’t know what the long-term effects are, nor do we really understand why it’s easier to open a Gateway here in Northern BC than at the original testing site in Arizona.”
“I thought the Earth’s gravitational fields were more malleable here,” said McKnight.
“In truth, Colonel…” Helena paused, looking very uncomfortable. “That’s just a hypothesis that’s been thrown about without any real scientific proof. It’s been repeated so many times that people who really should know better just accept it as fact. But it has never been anything more than a guess. The truth is we just don’t know why it’s easier to open Gateways here. There is something unique about this particular region of North America. The point I’m trying to get to is this: we just don’t know enough yet, and without more testing, without more clinical trials, we run the risk of inadvertently changing the dynamics of Rubicon.”
“Please be clear, Helena,” said McKnight.
“My concern, Colonel, is that we’ve somehow weakened the interdimensional veil, made it possible for travel from Rubicon to Earth.”
“You’re saying we may have left… interdimensional holes,” said Alex.
“Or somehow left a trail back to us,” said Helena.
“But that would mean…” Alex’s voice trailed off.
“That something on Rubicon was capable of creating a Gateway,” said Helena.
McKnight leaned forward. “Nothing we’ve seen so far would even hint at that level of technological development. Is that even possible?”
As all three men stared at her, uncertainty flitted across Helena’s features. “We don’t know. We’ve never done anything like this before. No one has. Although there were whispers that the Soviet Union was experimenting on transdimensional physics in the seventies, those were almost certainly just urban legends.”
“Something has changed,” said McKnight. “If Operation Rubicon has somehow created unintended breaches for animals to wander through…” He sighed again, feeling older than ever. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We need to determine what happened three days ago. Was there a breach? If so, where? We need to find it.”
“We’re on it, Colonel,” Alex said. “But…”
“But what, Captain?”
“Colonel, this is some pretty remote country. We’re talking about an area of old-growth boreal forests that’s twice the size of Arizona. Some of it—hell, most of it—is inaccessible other than on foot. It’s not going to be easy.”
“That’s the job, Captain.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What about UAVs, sir?” asked Buck. “They’d make it a hell of a lot easier to search.”
Alex shook his head. “No way my government is going to authorize that. They’re unhappy enough with the Osprey.”
Buck’s face turned red. “Well, goddamn—”
“Enough, Major,” said McKnight, raising his voice just enough to silence the other man. “Not our country, not our call. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” said Buck, glaring at Alex.
McKnight turned his attention back to Helena. “And let’s see what Mr. Hocking can do for us. Maybe there’s something to be gained from this disaster.”
“Yes, Colonel,” she said. “So far, the results are… exciting.”
“The other two—the two women in the hospital—we need to… deal with them as well.”
“Sir, I’ll look into them,” Alex said.
McKnight nodded. “Good, but focus on these goddamned wolf animals first. Find them and put them down before they kill someone.”
“Yes, sir,” both men answered.
McKnight met Alex’s eye. “The Canadian government is flying in a Royal Canadian Mounted Police
official who’s been brought up to date on Operation Rubicon. Once he gets on the ground, he’ll facilitate your interactions with the local police force, but until then, you and Major Buchanan need to stay ahead of the local constabulary. You already know your cover. We’ve been over this before. We can’t have creatures from Rubicon showing up on the evening news. It’ll draw too much attention. Operational security trumps everything else.”
“Understood, sir,” said Alex. “We’ll run them down.”
“Damn right I will, sir,” said Buck.
McKnight nodded. “Do it fast.”
Chapter 9
Cassie lay on her back on a gurney, a rubberized net of sensors wrapped around her head. Standing just beside her, Dr. Ireland watched a monitor highlighting Cassie’s brain activity. “This is really strange,” Dr. Ireland said. “Fascinating, really.”
“That’s exactly the sort of thing I like to hear at moments like this, Doc. You’re the best.”
Dr. Ireland smiled and squeezed Cassie’s shoulder. “Sorry. Not much fun for you, is it?”
Cassie stared down at her slipper-enclosed feet. “Not really. So, tell me about these strange things in my head.”
“Maybe strange wasn’t the best word. Interesting would be more appropriate.”
“Interesting like I should be really concerned, or interesting like you’re starting to figure out what’s wrong with me?”
Dr. Ireland pushed her horn-rimmed glasses up higher on her nose and stared intently at the screen. It was several seconds before she answered. “I’m not entirely sure there’s anything wrong with you. Or Elizabeth either.”
“Trust me, Doc. There’s a lot wrong with my roommate.”
“Not getting along, are we?”
“I don’t think she approves of me.”
“Well, just remember she’s trying to cope with this as well. And she’s doing it all by herself.”
Starlight (The Dark Elf War Book 1) Page 8