The Phoenix Descent

by Chuck Grossart

  “You’re kidding, right?” Hunter said, laughing. “You were in the same military that I was, last time I checked. The best secrets aren’t secret for long, especially one that allows the Navy to rub the Air Force’s nose in it. Do you realize how pissed off the entire F-22 community was after they found out the first Su-50 to get shot down went to the friggin’ Navy?”

  Sif grinned. “The entire F-22 community, huh?”

  “Every last one of them,” he said, “present company excluded, of course.” He knew the details of the mission, but no one ever knew who it was. The pilot—Sif—barely made it out of her damaged Super Hornet alive, and spent seventeen hours afloat in the ocean until being rescued. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

  “He got careless, and I was flying slow. Hornets can do amazing things when they’re not going fast.” She replayed the scene as all fighter pilots do, with her hands. “He overshot, I slewed the nose, gunned him. Half-second burst, right in the cockpit. I still had to eject, but I got him first.”

  “You realize you’re a legend, right?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she huffed. “There’s probably a statue of me somewhere with a plaque that reads, ‘Sif Wagner, Fighter Pilot Extraordinaire, but we can’t say why we put this statue up because it’s really, really classified.’”

  “I’m glad you made it.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “Me, too. Otherwise, you’d have to enjoy all this fun we’re having with someone else.” She looked at the clock. Two minutes left.

  Fuller was listening to the astronauts’ conversation, along with his supervisor, while keeping one eye glued to the clock.

  Any minute now.

  He hoped Sif and Hunter would be ready.

  “What do you think, Fuller?” the supervisor asked. “We might get to listen in on some pretty interesting war stories, don’t you think?”

  The first alarm went off right on time.

  The supervisor swung his chair back toward his status board. “Proximity alarm, sector five. And six.”

  Fence alarms. Just as planned. Fuller stood.

  “Seven and eight, too.” The supervisor grabbed his mic. “This is control. All units, respond to multiple fence alarms, sectors five, six, seven, and eight.”

  There would be more, Fuller knew. Enough to draw everyone’s attention—and the available manpower—away from where he needed to go.

  “Do you want the standby units ready to respond, too?” Fuller suggested. “Whoever, or whatever, it is might be trying to breach the fence.”

  “Yeah. Good idea.”

  “I’m on it,” Fuller said, as he grabbed his gear and left the control room.

  Everything was in motion now, and so far, it was going exactly as planned.

  Chapter 53

  Sif and Hunter both jumped when they heard the sirens. She quickly slipped her helmet and mask on, and Hunter did the same. They stood by the door, waiting as instructed, neither saying a word. They could hear the loudspeakers outside, a voice barking instructions.

  “Proximity alarms,” Sif whispered, her voice muffled through her mask.

  “The outer fence line, topside,” Hunter whispered back. “Oldest trick in the book. Draw their attention somewhere else.”

  “Let’s hope it works.”

  Fuller relayed the order to activate the standby crews and made his way to Level Two down the ladder shaft. Time consuming, but necessary. He checked the time on his sleeve—the next phase should begin any moment.

  The explosive charge on the fence would blow a hole right through sector two—and force the standby crews to respond. It would also allow him to get the guard posted outside the astronauts’ quarters—who would be there because of the initial alarms—to leave.

  He stood silently at the bottom of the ladder, waiting for the call. It came right on time.

  “All units, explosive breach, sector two. All standby units respond. I repeat, all standby units respond.”

  Fuller stepped from the ladder exit and ran toward the housing corridor. As expected, a guard was posted outside the door. It would be Jackson, one of the newer guards, who wouldn’t know any better.

  “Jackson,” Fuller yelled as he approached. “Report topside immediately. I’ll cover your post.”

  “Sir?”

  “Get your ass topside, mister. I’ve got your post.”

  For a second, Fuller thought his choice of postings might not have worked as well as he hoped, as Jackson hesitated. He wasn’t supposed to leave his post without direction from security control.

  But then, finally, he moved.

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Jackson ran toward the center area and the elevator, Fuller took position outside the door, standing at parade rest, just in case Jackson decided to glance over his shoulder. He didn’t.

  Sif and Hunter looked at each other, unsure of what to do. They could hear voices outside the door. An argument.

  Then the door opened.

  “Now,” the man said, motioning for them to exit. “We don’t have much time. Switch your comms to internal, slot three.”

  “Change—I don’t know what—” Sif started to say.

  “Here,” the man said, pointing at a small panel embedded in the fabric of their right sleeves, near the wrist. “Push this, then this. We’ll be able to talk through the masks without being monitored.”

  She and Hunter did as instructed. “There, can you hear me?” Sif asked, glancing at the man’s name tape—Fuller—the same person who had stared at her so intently when they first arrived at Phoenix. Now she knew why.

  “Clear as a bell. If we run into anyone, don’t say a thing. Just follow my lead,” Fuller said. “Let’s go.”

  As they walked briskly down the corridor toward the large open space, Sif was surprised at how little commotion there was, and at the lack of people. “Where is everyone?”

  “In their quarters,” Fuller replied. “Normal protocol for an alarm activation. It’s so no one interferes with the security response.”

  Fuller led them to the ladder door. “In here.”

  “We’re taking a ladder?” Hunter asked.

  “It’s the easiest way,” Fuller said. “We won’t be seen.”

  It was a long trek to go three levels down, and even though Sif was in good shape, the muscles in her arms and legs were burning by the time they made it to the lowest level in the complex, the one level that remained secret to them.

  Fuller reached the bottom first, followed by Sif and finally Hunter.

  “My friends topside will keep everyone occupied as long as they can, but we won’t have much time.” Fuller opened the door, looked around to make sure no one was near, and motioned them to follow.

  They exited into a long tunnel, dark and damp, with small overheads lighting the way every few feet. There was water on the floor of the tunnel, and even through her mask, Sif could smell the dank stench of the place. “How far underground are we?”

  “About two hundred and seventy-five feet.”

  “Jesus,” she said. “And this is the last level?”

  “This is as far down as Phoenix extends,” Fuller replied.

  They came to a stop in the tunnel and turned right, following the dim overhead lights. Sif could see the end of the tunnel now, opening into what appeared to be a large, cavernous space. Before they went into it, though, Fuller stopped and turned toward them.

  “What you’re going to see is the fate that awaits those people you met in the caves, and every other human being surviving on the outside. Those of us who discovered the secret are fighting to bring this place down, and we need your help to do it.”

  Sif nodded, and Fuller led them into the cavern.

  Chapter 54

  They made the trip back up the ladder in silence. The hope for humanity wasn’t here, in the Phoenix Complex. The true hope for humanity was beyond Phoenix’s walls and fences topped with concertina wire, where people like Litsa fought for survival every day.

&n
bsp; Phoenix could not stand.

  What Fuller requested of them was almost too much to ask. It was bold, it was audacious, but it was the right thing to do.

  They were able to sneak back to Level Two undetected—or so they thought—and Fuller left them at their door, telling them to hide the security uniforms where they first found them—tucked behind the couch—and someone would retrieve them later when they were away. They were also told to continue with their preparations for Beagle’s launch. The flyer’s mission had to go off without a hitch. The Old Ones wanted the Riy eradicated just as much as everyone else. After the flyer was safely away, then the clock would start ticking for the next phase of the Resistance’s operation. Everything was in motion, Fuller explained. There was no stopping it, as long as Beagle launched as scheduled. After that, timing was everything.

  “Are you okay?” Hunter whispered. They were in the second bedroom, where Fuller said there weren’t any microphones. They could talk safely here, as long as they kept their voices low.

  Sif sat on the edge of the bed, her face cupped in her hands.

  Hunter sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. “We have to put it aside, Sif. Concentrate on what we need to do next.”

  They were both startled by a loud pounding on the door.

  “Shit,” Sif said. Both of their uniforms were tucked away behind the couch, just as instructed, and the rest of the room was clear of any evidence of their clandestine trip to the lowest level.

  More pounding, harder this time.

  “What do we do?” Sif asked.

  “Answer it.” Hunter walked out of the bedroom and toward the door. Sif followed.

  “Who is it?” he called.

  “It’s me. Fuller.”

  That’s odd, Sif thought. Why would he come back now?

  Hunter opened the door.

  It was Fuller, but he was bloodied and beaten, held up by two other security personnel. And beside them was a man they both immediately recognized.

  President Carlisle.

  “Had an interesting night, did we?” Carlisle said.

  Sif swallowed. Hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And who is this man? What have you done to him?”

  “You know full well who this is, Commander. And I believe you’ll recognize this person, too.”

  Two other security personnel stepped into view, dragging another person between them. It was a woman, barely able to stand, dressed in a hospital gown. Her eyes were half-open, and her mouth hung slack.

  “Litsa,” Sif breathed. “No.”

  President Carlisle smiled. “We’re going to have a little chat, Commander, Colonel. And you will cooperate. Otherwise, these two are dead.”

  Suddenly, Sif remembered where she had seen President Carlisle before, and Dr. Mattis. Both of them were in the Dak’s historical records. She saw their pictures, read about their mistakes. And their crimes.

  “I know you,” Sif said coldly. “You—and Mattis—you’re the reason our planet is dead.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to blame the entire catastrophe on the doctor and me, Commander. We’re trying to fix things, remember?”

  “Go to hell,” Sif said. She spat at him.

  President Carlisle’s eyes flashed with anger, then he calmly wiped the spittle from his cheek. He grabbed Litsa by the chin and forced her face up. “I may, one day, do just that, Commander, but unless you do exactly as I say, I guarantee she’ll go there first. And it won’t be pleasant.”

  “You need us,” Hunter said, his voice low and full of anger. “If you touch her, you can forget about it.”

  “I’m not bluffing, Colonel Webb.” Carlisle turned to the first set of guards. “Kill him.”

  Before they could react, one of the guards pulled his sidearm. Fuller struggled, but before he could break free from their grasp, the guard shot him point-blank in the temple.

  “No!” Sif screamed.

  Fuller’s lifeless body dropped to the concrete in a heap, his left arm twitching.

  “Now, please,” Carlisle said, smiling broadly. “Come with me, or your little friend here will be next.”

  Chapter 55

  Sif didn’t like what she was being forced to do, but she didn’t have a choice.

  “Prelaunch checklist complete.”

  “Copy, prelaunch complete. T minus sixty seconds until launch.” It was Hunter’s voice in her headset. Beside her sat another man—one tasked with ensuring the mission went off as planned. He was wearing Hunter’s space suit, and he was armed.

  “Just like we explained in training,” Sif said, “it’ll be a rough ride at first, but it’ll smooth out relatively quickly.” The man’s name was Shattuck, one of the Old Ones. He was a pilot in her day, now one of their C-130 jockeys.

  “Copy,” he said.

  “Just make sure you don’t touch anything.”

  “You just make sure we make it to Resolute safe and sound, Commander.”

  “We will, as long as you keep your hands off of my ship, clear?”

  “Clear.”

  Shattuck was along for the ride—to make sure she, and Lucas, did exactly what was expected of them. Lucas had no idea what was going on—their conversations with him were scripted, and conducted at gunpoint. Not only was Litsa being threatened with death, but so was Hunter. If Sif tried anything, they could both be killed. Lucas wasn’t going to know he had a visitor until Shattuck popped through the hatch with her. But Sif had other ideas.

  Hunter’s voice came through her headphones. “T minus thirty seconds, mark. Ignition sequence start in twenty.”

  Sif shifted her weight in the seat, getting as comfortable as she could. She had only flown Beagle to orbit in a simulator, so not only was this Shattuck’s first ride, it was hers, too.

  Hunter’s voice. “Ten seconds. You ready for this, Navy?”

  “I’m always ready,” she replied.

  “Five. Four. Three. Two . . . Ignition sequence start, now.”

  Sif felt the rumble as all four engines ignited, the thrust quickly building. Beagle shook, held fast by the launching clamps. She quickly cross-checked her instruments as the readouts shifted to green across the board. Outside her window, billowing plumes of white exhaust enveloped the ship. “Come on, baby . . .”

  Hunter continued the count to the next event. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One . . . Clamp release.”

  Sif always enjoyed the spine-jarring thrill of being catapulted from an aircraft carrier’s deck, going from a dead standstill to flying speed in just seconds—but this was even better. Beagle leapt from Earth’s surface and tore into the sky with a thunderous roar, pressing Sif hard against her seat. She heard Shattuck grunt in surprise. “What’s the matter there, Shit-tuck? Too much for ya?” He didn’t reply, and Sif was satisfied that the man was scared out of his wits.

  Hunter watched as Beagle appeared out of the exhaust clouds, tearing into the sky with four long trains of flame licking the sky behind her. “Fly, baby, fly,” he shouted.

  Sif’s voice came through the speakers, sounding like she was driving over a bumpy road. “Pitch program executed, clean and green across the board, tracking straight and true.”

  Beagle started her pitch-over maneuver, beginning the chase to orbit and eventual rendezvous with Resolute, some 150 miles above.

  “She feels like a friggin’ Ferrari, Hunter.”

  Hunter laughed at the enthusiasm in her voice. “Keep your eyes on the prize, Beagle.”

  “You’re missing one hell of a ride, Air Force. Max pressure coming up, throttling down to seventy-five percent, looking good.”

  “Let’s hope she does keep her eyes on the prize, Colonel Webb,” President Carlisle said, standing behind him. “For your sake.”

  Hunter turned. “She’ll accomplish the mission, Mr. President,” he snarled. “I guarantee it. As long as your passenger doesn’t get in the way.”

  “Max pressure complete, throttling back up to one hundred
percent, everything in the green, and she’s purring like a kitten,” Sif said.

  “I have no doubts that she will, Colonel. She surely doesn’t want to see you dead, and Shattuck is there to make sure Lucas Hoover feels the same way.”

  Hunter turned away from the man and watched Beagle’s contrail as she rocketed away toward the southeast, heading for orbit.

  Sif watched as the blue sky outside her window grew darker, and the stars appeared. “Take a look, Shit-tuck, you’re almost an official astro-nut.”

  “Cut the crap, Commander.”

  “Or what, you’ll shoot me? Go ahead, you can fly her.”

  “Just get us to the ship.”

  Sif felt the first effects of weightlessness as the sky outside her window turned black, and the stars came out with all their beauty. It was just as stunning as she remembered. “Okay, we’re zero-g, orbital insertion in twenty seconds.” They would circle Earth once before rendezvousing with Resolute. “And there it is, orbital insertion, mains coming off.” All four of Beagle’s main engines shut off, and the vibration she felt through her seat ceased. She glanced over at her passenger. “There you are, Shit-tuck, welcome to the astronaut corps.”

  He didn’t reply, which was exactly what she hoped for. He was asleep, his hands floating in front of him, just as planned. The oxygen controls for the crew were on her side of the cockpit, and she turned his down just enough to make him pass out. She could turn it all the way off now, kill the bastard. It would serve him right.

  “Nighty-night, asshole,” she said, reaching for his sidearm.

  Chapter 56

  After Beagle traveled out of radio range, Hunter was taken back to his holding cell. As the door slammed and locked behind him, he could see that the lights were turned down, and there was someone else in here with him. Huddled in the corner was Litsa, her eyes shining brightly through the shadows. She stood, backed up against the wall, her hands clenched into fists. She was dressed in one of their uniforms but was barefoot.