The little black box, that damnable box, was gone. “This is bad. This is very bad,” he muttered. He didn’t understand everything about the device, but he knew enough. The radiation unleashed when the device was activated would kill everything it touched. The particles were the smallest known to man, moving fast and passing easily through biological matter, and with no electrical charge whatsoever, it would destroy human flesh on contact. Even small doses would be fatal. Though this prototype was tiny compared to the planned product, it would be devastating.
Distracted by the missing Genesis device, neither heard the approaching chopper before Ling stuck his head through the doorway. “Incoming!”
11
Shortly after leaving Searchlight behind, a soldier she hadn’t seen the first time around set to work on the one they had called Gunny. He pulled and snapped joints and bone back into place without ceremony, without pain killers, in the bed of the rusted old Ford as they headed toward Vegas. Who are these lunatics?
With the sun high enough for Mel to see the bed of the truck, she tried to sneak a look over her shoulder and found the old Gunnery Sergeant stretched out and sleeping as if he hadn’t just had his ass handed to him by a little girl. The grin that started creeping out disappeared as she remembered what he’d said. Her Drill Sergeant?
“He was kidding, right?” she asked the man behind the wheel. The newcomer in the bathroom had never given his name, but she suspected she knew. If she was right, Mel was in big trouble. It was time to find out for sure. “About me being in the Marines. After all, you’re not in the military anymore. I watched your court martial on the news.”
He smiled, his eyes never leaving the road. “I’m impressed. Most civilians don’t recognize me. Once the court martial was over, other… more interesting news caught their attention and I was forgotten.”
“I tend to remember men who are court martialed for killing civilians.”
Despite the jab, the smile on Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Wallace’s face grew. “Not everything is as it seems, Edwards. Especially now. And yes, you are officially a Marine. The contracts have all been signed and registered.”
“I didn’t sign shit,” she said. Tom, I’m going to kill you.
“Welcome to the real C.O.R.E.”
C.O.R.E? Mel was speechless. Not only did Tom hook her up with a bunch of cut-throat mercenaries, he threw her, head first, back into the belly of the beast. Before she could get her mind around what was happening – who was happening – a phone on the dashboard began to ring.
Wallace glanced at the phone and handed it to her without answering it. “It’s for you. Tell him we’ll be at Nellis in fifteen.”
Nellis Air Force Base. Things just kept getting better and better. She didn’t recognize the number on the screen and almost didn’t answer it. Wallace said nothing, that stupid grin still on his face. The phone didn’t stop ringing, didn’t go to voicemail. After waiting another minute, she connected the call. “Hello?”
“Mel, I’m so glad they found you safe and sound,” Mel shivered as the familiar voice crossed the miles. Even now, it was filled with charm, reassurance. He didn’t sound furious about her disappearance, but that meant nothing.
“Thank you, Mr. Maitland.” Her voice sounded small to her own ears. “But I’m not sure what’s happening.”
“That’s okay, my dear. I was appalled to hear about your marital… misfortunes. My condolences. I understand now, why you left. But I must insist that next time, you come to me first. Together, we can handle any problem you might have.”
She shivered again. There was no way to tell if he was just following the program Tom set in motion, or if Tom had lied to him as well. It put her in a nasty corner. “I understand that now,” she lied. “Thank you for taking me back. We’ll be at Nellis in fifteen minutes.”
“You’re family, Mel. And we take care of our family, don’t we?”
Damn. How much did he know? How could she play the part when she didn’t even know the script? “Yes, Sir. There’s no place like home.”
“As for what is happening, I’m afraid I have some bad news. Several of our partners have come under terrorist attack. Including Dr. Malor and his lab.”
“Oh, no!” she feigned surprise and hoped she wasn’t over-playing it. There was nothing she could do but roll with what he said and hope like hell she didn’t screw up anything Tom had told him. Not until she had a chance to talk to Tom and find out why he had put her right back into Maitland’s hands. “How bad is it?”
“Far too horrible to discuss over the phone, my dear. I don’t wish to upset you when you are so far away. I tell you this only so you understand how important it is to stay close to the family. To do what you are told to do. No more running, Mel. Is that clear?”
The threat behind the concern was clear. “Yes, Sir. It’s good to be home.”
“It’s good to have you back, dear. These are dangerous times. We must protect ourselves. The human race is determined to push itself to the brink of extinction. We must take steps to protect the future. I’m counting on you to help me.”
What in the hell was he talking about? “I understand, Sir. I will do my best.”
“That is all I ask, dear. God speed and I will see you soon.”
The phone went dead in her ear. As if hearing both sides of the conversation, Wallace’s smile had faded away. Deep lines etched the corner of the eye she could see. With Tom’s betrayal, there was no one left she could trust her questions to. Not Tom, not Gunny, and sure as hell not the nut-job in the driver’s seat.
They rode in silence as he pulled into Nellis and checked in through the guard gate, both at the entrance, and at the tarmac. She was still wrestling with her dilemma when they pulled to a stop. Someone tapped the window next to her head and she jumped. Gunny stood, his face bruised and swollen. The ghastly smile was not in evidence, only a look of concern that Mel found even more frightening.
She hesitated to roll the window down, but in for a penny, in for a pound. He turned and signaled the other men to move out before turning back to her. Stunned, she watched as the men boarded a V-22 Osprey, an American dream for radical pilots like her. It was a beast of a helicopter, but its range and speed were unmatched. Despite being condemned as unsafe, overpriced and inadequate, the tilt-rotor system made it an awesome machine to handle.
“I thought they discontinued use of the Osprey?” she asked no one in particular.
Wallace answered with a phrase that was quickly becoming a mantra for her. “Nothing is as it seems, Edwards.”
“She talk to him?” Gunny asked.
Wallace nodded his head, slowly, as if he was trying not to spook her. A little late for that, if she hadn’t been spooked before, his next words would have taken care of the oversight. “I don’t agree with his methods, Edwards. My family, what’s left of it, will always believe I’m a traitor. They will always believe I’m a murderer. Like it or not, though, his methods work. Changes are coming, hard times for everyone. I am still a Marine and I will do everything in my power to protect the American people. Whether they like it or not.”
When he fell quiet, Gunny picked it up. “Maitland is the most powerful man on the planet. Don’t be fooled about that. He’s got his hands into just about everything, but he’s clever enough to hide it. Make no mistake; he will be the leader of the free world. Sooner than you think. And when the shit hits the fan, it will hit hard and fast. I agree with the LT. I don’t care for his methods, but better to be in a position to be ready than to get caught on the sidelines with our pants around our ankles.”
Wallace finally turned to look at her. “Take your time, Edwards. Get a feel for what’s really happening with this world. Just know you can trust us. I have a feeling we can trust you, too, or you wouldn’t be here right now. I don’t know what you left behind, a mother, a father, a boy toy… whatever, whoever, it is, if you want a chance to protect them, this is the only way. It’s time to put on your big girl panties, strap it on, a
nd get ready, because the world is going to get its ass kicked. The people need someone to help them survive it.”
Gunny reached in and put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you understand what we’re trying to tell you, Mel?”
Tears burned at the back of her eyes as she nodded her head. What she wanted more than anything was to turn around and get back to the cabin in San Francisco Peaks. Get back to Ryan and hold baby Eve in her arms. She was pretty sure any chance to turn back was gone. The idea of stepping into that helo made it real. Once through that doorway, there would be no going back. Ever. “What’s happening,” she whispered.
She didn’t expect an answer, but she got one from Lt. Colonel Wallace. “We’ll show you everything when we get to HQ, where we’re secure.”
Gunny stepped back as she opened the door and stepped out of the truck. “Okay. Let’s go.”
12
Max had only a moment to register the building thrum of the chopper before he shoved Mittie Kate into a corner, planting her on the discarded boxes. She tumbled over among a small flood of Dia de los Muertos masks and streamers.
“Stay,” he ordered and grabbed his duffle bag before running for the door, smashing the small bulb that hung from the ceiling on his way out.
Ling was nowhere to be seen. Out of habit, Max had scanned the buildings around the secret cache before heading to La Rosas’ the day before. Without consciously thinking about what he would do, he crossed the street and climbed a rickety ladder, to build his nest on the flat adobe roof of the general store.
Though the Lapua had been specially built for penetration at a distance, he knew the incoming chopper had been designed for protection. Shooting too soon would give away his position and the .50 caliber turrets on the belly of the black beast would turn the store, and him, into funeral confetti.
Two minutes out, no wind but the down draft of the chopper, clear line of site. His brain automatically went through a new firing solution every two seconds as the chopper drew closer. Where the hell is Ling?
Movement in the street below drew his eye. Farmers and craftsmen, still drinking their morning coffee, filtered out into the street. Drawn out by the thrump thrump thrump of the chopper, their eyes searched the sky, looking for the source. Once seen, instead of taking cover, they moved to get a better view.
Mothers and grandmothers herded excited and squealing children back inside. A few rowdy boys managed to escape their grasp and seek shelter where they could watch the show without fear of apprehension.
Cursing under his breath, knowing there was nothing he could do about them now, he resumed running through firing solutions before catching sight of Ling on the roof of the mission. An assault rifle had been braced on the adobe edge next to the giant cross. “Where was that hiding?” Max muttered to himself.
Movement along the alley next the mission caught his eye and he shifted his sights to find Mittie Kate waving frantically. When she was sure he’d seen her, she pointed into the street where a man in a long black cassock walked, his attention on a small black box in his hands. Max went cold under the hot Chihuahuan sun as the padre turned the Genesis device this way and that, prodding the surface.
Nor was he the only one who saw where Mittie had been pointing. The chopper, drawing close now, changed its angle of attack. Its nose pointed toward the mission, opening a hail of strafing fire as it hovered backward toward the street and the padre below.
Focused on Mittie Kate, the gunner and the pilot on the chopper failed to spot Max and drew closer. The padre, bombarded by the downdraft from the rotors, covered his face. The tails of his cassock flapped around him like an angry bird, but he had stopped fiddling with the device.
Taking advantage of the distracted chopper and the mêlée in the street, Max sighted through the front window of the chopper. Even as the round left the barrel, Max spotted a familiar face riding second seat.
Bishop.
“How in the hell are you still breathing?” Max said.
The pilot flinched as the round struck the glass in front of him. Though the divot and spider-webbing caught the sun, Max could tell the round hadn’t penetrated the shield.
The last time he’d seen Bishop, the hoary little bastard had been lying face down after taking a round to the chest. Even as the idea of a bullet proof vest flashed through his mind, Max was re-sighting to take aim at Bishop.
Too late, the chopper swiveled and dropped, even as Bishop dove out of sight. Doors facing the cowering padre flew open and men in assault gear offloaded before the door was slammed shut behind them. Two pointed their weapons at the padre, while the other two sets of two on either side of them opened up on Max and Ling.
Their rounds ripped through the adobe next to Max’s head, sending plaster and wood shrapnel zinging through the air. Max ducked, but although his face stung from flying debris, he hadn’t been hit. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, they hadn’t been shooting to kill, but merely to hold them down and keep them from returning fire.
Crawling out of sight of the enemy below, Max looked toward Ling and found him with hands lifted in a shrug. He had realized it, too. Max touched Betty’s long barrel and made the sign of the cross. He didn’t wait around to see if Ling got the hint.
Back at the wall, both eyes open to take in the scope as well as the world around it, Max took aim at the padre’s head. The two soldiers were getting closer. Through the scope, Max could see the old man’s hand trembling as he held the device out to the approaching men.
Across the way, a form fell, tucked and rolled as it hit the ground. Ling had gotten the message.
The soldiers crept closer, their rifles aimed at the padre, and still Max waited. He had to give Ling time to get to Mittie Kate. He didn’t know if killing the padre would set the device off, or if it would buy him the time he needed to take out the soldiers. Either way, he had to keep it out of Bishop’s hands.
The two soldiers on Max’s side continued to fire. Plaster and wood ripped free from the edge of the building and cut into his face, his arms. He waited for the sting as one took out his eye, but it didn’t come.
Ignoring the blood that beaded and rolled down his face, he kept his sights on the padre. Closer still, one of the soldiers began to reach for the prize held out by the frightened padre. He had to give Ling just a few more seconds, but he couldn’t wait much longer.
In his sights, fingertips touched. At the last second, Max moved the crosshairs, lined up on the trembling hand holding the device and squeezed the trigger. The world went still. Everything passed with that peculiar clarity reserved for men looking through a scope, taking another man’s life. The bullet, the hands, seemed to move in slow motion before Max tore his gaze away and ran.
At first, there was only a scream of pain as Max dove into a corner at the back of the building, Betty cradled to his chest. That scream and the overwhelming absence of an explosion lasted an eternity to Max. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but this wasn’t it.
In reality, the delay between the round ripping through flesh, bone and the device took only a fraction of a second. The explosion, though delayed by mere seconds, came quickly and the power unleashed was incredible for such a small object.
The world around Max turned a searing white as if a small sun had gone nova in the Mexican desert. Burying his head to protect his eyes, Max waited for the general store under him to be ripped off of its foundation. He waited for the explosion that would scatter his remains to the farthest edges of the crater it would leave behind.
The shattering sound and force of the explosion never came. There was nothing but the blinding light and even it faded quickly and quietly as if it had been nothing more than an apparition.
He huddled in his corner until the background hum of the chopper changed in pitch and tone. Confused, he lifted his face in time to see Bishop framed in the window. He hovered for a moment, looking for all the world like he wanted to ram the chopper into the rooftop to kill Max once and for all.
The .50 cals remained silent.
Raising both hands to give Bishop a vulgar two-handed salute, Max grinned. He had no idea what had happened. Bishop, though still in second seat, was alone. No pilot, no gunner. Bishop jerked the chopper forward, close enough so Max could see the snarl on his pink lips, before he pulled up and headed back the way they had come.
In the silence left behind by the departing chopper, someone began to scream.
13
When bullets began ripping through the walls around her, Mittie Kate ducked back behind the wall of the building next to the Mission. Covering her face to protect her eyes, she could hear nothing over the cacophony caused by the assault rifles and the steady drone of the chopper. Blind and deaf to what was happening around her, she tried to scoot backwards along the wall to get out of the danger zone.
When she could no longer feel the small debris pellets tearing into her skin, she looked up. Despite the rounds that still peppered the mission, Ling dropped from the roof, tucked and rolled, and came up at a run, heading straight for her.
Wrapping himself protectively around her, he pushed and shoved until they were behind the mission. He didn’t stop until they were down the stairs. Shoving her into the corner farthest from the battle on the street in front, he covered her body with his own and waited.
The sudden silence was more frightening than the barrage of weapons fire. “Do they have it? Did they get the device?”
“Max would not let that happen,” Ling answered, his voice as Zen-calm as ever.
“What if they killed him?”
“Give him time, Mittie,” he whispered. Despite his words and the reassurance she heard in his voice, Ling reached into his tunic and withdrew his sidearm.
As the quiet stretched out, he adjusted himself to have a clear line of sight at the door. When the noise from the chopper grew and then faded away, Mittie tried to rise up.
Genesis (Extinction Book 1) Page 5