by Roger Weston
“I see it,” Dean whispered from behind the next tree over. “How do we deal with them?”
Chuck motioned for Dean to follow. They retreated down the slope a little so that they were out of sight, and then worked their way around behind the entrance to the mine. Slowly, over a period of fifteen minutes, they crept silently through the forest until they were just above the cave entrance. Chuck raised two fingers. Dean nodded.
One of the guards was standing out front, smoking a cigarette, a submachine gun hanging from his shoulder strap. He blew out a lungful of smoke and said something in Arabic. Another Arab spoke back to him from just inside the mine.
Chuck nodded, then dropped down onto the Arab, who buckled under his falling weight. Chuck sunk his hunting knife into the guard’s throat and severed the windpipe before the man had a chance to scream. He heard two silenced shots and saw vaguely that Dean had jumped down, rolled and pumped two shells into the other guard inside the entrance.
Inside, the mine was cool and fairly well-lit. The gray sandstone walls were rugged and the floor smooth. Chuck could easily have driven a large tractor down the fifteen-foot wide cave. Railroad tracks ran down the center of the tunnel. Pipes and wires lined the ceiling.
They turned a corner and saw a thin black man. He wore a construction hat that had a lamp on the front and a tube running from the back of the hat down to an electronic device attached to his belt. He was standing down a well-lit side tunnel holding up a small instrument.
Chuck raised his M-16 as the man looked over. “Stay right there,” Chuck said, approaching him. “What are you doing?”
The man’s lips parted as his gaze locked onto the assault rifle. “Radiation test.” He spoke with an accent. He looked nervously at the white rope burn around Dean’s neck, and then back to the M-16.
“Are the levels safe?” Chuck said.
“Yes.” The man lowered his instrument.
“What’s your name?”
“This is a high security area. You better leave.”
Chuck put the gun in the man’s face. “I said, what’s your name?”
“Nadif.”
“Where are you from?”
“Somalia.”
“Now tell me, what’s going on here?”
“We are mining. I must return to work.”
“For?” Chuck touched the tip of the M-16 to Nadif’s nose.
“Don’t hurt me. They make me work.”
“Who makes you work?” Chuck said.
“They won’t let us leave.”
Chuck lowered the gun. “How many of you are there?”
“Hundreds. Maybe more.” Nadif backed away.
Chuck motioned down the tunnel with his gun. “Show me where they are.”
Nadif turned and walked down the tunnel. Chuck and Dean followed.
He took them to a side tunnel, and they got into a golf cart that was parked in a dark depression. As the cart sped into the bowels of the mountain Chuck saw a foreman’s station. “Stop here,” he said.
The little cart came to an abrupt stop. Chuck got out and stepped into a niche where a line of screws had been driven into the gray sandstone wall and a dozen clipboards hung from them. Below them was a desk with a computer on it.
Chuck grabbed one of the clipboards and scanned the information. He recognized the names of several immigrants that had disappeared from the Clearbrook Apartments after refusing his offer to return to their home countries as spies for RUMAN. Now Chuck knew what had become of them. They had been brought here to Jin Mountain. He also saw a reference to a test date.
Standing at the computer station with the clipboard in his hand, Chuck froze at the sound of approaching footsteps. As a uniformed mercenary came around the corner, the man’s eyes opened wide on seeing Chuck and Dean, and his fingers flew to his gun. At the same moment, the butt of Chuck’s M-16 slammed into his jaw. The impact sent him wheeling backwards, tumbling to the ground, his head hitting rock. He did not get back up—or even open his eyes.
“Let’s get him out of sight,” Chuck said.
Chuck and Dean stashed him under the desk. There was no place else to hide him and no time to waste.
Within seconds, the golf cart was speeding down the tunnel again.
Chuck pointed his gun at Nadif. “They your friends?”
“No, no.”
“You make any moves, you can expect the same.”
“I’m glad what you did. Two classes of immigrants work here. The mercs and the workers. The mercs are privileged because they work for the company. They know they will be sent abroad and live well. They want to prove their loyalty, so they beat any workers who complain or don’t work fast enough. They kill any who try to leave.”
“Are there more up ahead?” Chuck asked.
“They’re everywhere,” Nadif said. “There is no hope of escape.”
“Take me to the workers.”
CHAPTER 81
Robert was sitting in the makeshift conference room in the large Quonset hut at the Jin Complex when Leslie stormed in.
He leaned back in his chair. “Welcome, Leslie. We were just talking about you. Gentleman, this is Leslie Bowers, the architect of our experiment.” Seven men introduced themselves to Leslie and congratulated her. Robert offered her a seat at a long table.
Leslie was in shock. The men included a senator from a well-known political family, a famous business tycoon, a five-star general, a colonel named Butch Green, a recognizable billionaire, the head of the CIA, and three others, including a huge black man on a scooter.
Robert pointed a remote control, and a section of the wall pulled back, revealing a large screen. The lights dimmed. An image appeared on the screen of a man in his eighties. He wore an expensive suit and sat at a desk in what appeared to be a penthouse overlooking the U.N. The old man wore a scowl and had permanent creases around his mouth to accommodate it.
Robert said, “Hello, Alan. We’re now in a position to confirm the good news that we had hoped for. Chuck Brandt has passed the test series. We pushed him to the limit, obtained valuable information, and exterminated him.”
“Good,” Alan said. “Young lady, I have followed your progress from a distance. You were selected from hundreds of potential candidates, all of which were carefully scrutinized by the Paymasters. Your work will contribute to the effective stabilization of the world.”
Leslie looked over at Robert with questioning eyes.
“We welcome you as family,” the man continued. “The Paymasters is one of the most secret organizations in the world. We make history and craft world events to better serve the common strain of humanity, and we do so in a way that we find advantageous to our own interests as well.”
“Robert,” Leslie said.
He ignored her.
Up on the big screen, Alan continued: “We work in the shadows, but in doing so we mold the destiny of the human race. We are on the verge of awarding RUMAN control of the Solar Microwave Weapon system or SMW. We are assembled here to conduct the last in our series of tests. It would be hard to overstate the honor we are bestowing upon RUMAN, but never forget that we only do so because of your contribution to our cause.”
“Robert, I need to speak with you alone,” Leslie said.
“In a minute. Please continue, Alan.”
Leslie glared at him.
Alan nodded. “Leslie, your extraordinary innovations in psychological warfare have taken the chaos theory to a new level. We can now inject confusion into any situation and spin the outcome to our advantage with new confidence. We can target key individuals, infuse chaos into their lives, create a state of disequilibrium—and then bring order out of the chaos. Ordo de chao. Naturally, the subsequent arrangement is one we find more palatable than the prior.”
“Robert.” She looked around at each of the men.
Alan continued, “Never forget that ultimately we are here to serve humanity, to save humanity from itself. God help us if we left the world in the ha
nds of the common strain of man. Overnight, the world would plunge into such disorder that it would eclipse all the terrors of history. We won’t allow that to happen. We use many tools to avoid this and the SMW tops them all, but your contribution will play an integral role in the great course of events to use chaos to avoid greater chaos. Today we will conduct the final test of the Solar Satellite Microwave Weapon, our ultimate tool.”
Leslie looked back at Robert, hoping to get his attention.
“Naturally,” Alan continued up on the screen, “we make great sacrifices in our service to humanity, but we are rewarded accordingly. Incredible wealth is our birthright and frankly we take it for granted. Now you will share in that wealth.”
Robert stepped forward. “Thank you, Alan. I know you have to go and we must begin our testing on the immigrants.”
Holding out the remote with his narrow fingers, Robert was about to switch off the flat screen when Leslie said, “Chuck isn’t dead. He’s breached security. He’s on Jin Mountain.”
“No, Leslie. We already got him—back at that survivalist’s cabin. Your little experiment was to push him to the breaking point. We did that and now he’s gone. Now we must proceed with the testing of the SMW.”
“I just saw him on the monitor.”
“No. It’s not possible. You assured me that you could manipulate anyone with your full-proof psychological theories and your psych ops.”
“What? Are you sick? I told you months ago that he was too high of a risk. I told you he should be terminated, but you insisted on your little experiment. I fought for his termination. You’re lying. You’ve blown it this time.”
The men in the boardroom looked at each other, then at Robert and Leslie.
“No, Leslie, you’re the one whose task it was to control Brandt. If he’s here, you’ve failed your job.”
“My job? What happened, you stupid man, is that you underestimated Brandt, and I hoped you knew what you were talking about.”
Robert glanced at the others. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. Leslie has not been entirely well lately.”
“No, you said you could deal with him. You called him a broken man who you only took on to flush out Curtis.”
Robert felt his fingers turn to ice. He turned to the group sitting around the table. “Men, excuse me while I sort out this matter with Leslie. Rest assured our research project was a great success.”
“What?” Leslie looked at him incredulously.
“Thank you all for coming. I will inform you of the results of the test. Your planes are waiting.” The men filed out of the room as Robert shook each of their hands. A couple of them mumbled under their breaths that he’d better have it under control. Two of the men, Director Law and Colonel Butch Green, didn’t move.
Director Law looked up at the flat screen and said. “Alan, Colonel Green and I will stay here to ensure that Robert does his job and takes care of Brandt. We will let you know when all matters are settled.”
“The hell you will. My plane is on stand-by. I’ll be there shortly.”
Vincent Law grabbed Robert’s arm and yelled in his ear. “Don’t let me down, you bastard. Finish off Brandt.”
As Robert and Leslie stepped outside two motorcycles zoomed past them. “Get the hell out of my way,” Robert yelled at them. He walked quickly toward his modular office.
Leslie ran after him in her high heels and mini-skirt.
Inside the office, Leslie turned to him and said, “He’s here now at Jin Mountain. You told me Chuck wouldn’t be able to find it. What are you gonna do, Robert? What—what!”
Robert’s phone rang. Sitting down at his desk, he pointed at the door with one hand and reached for the phone with the other. Leslie lunged for the phone, beating Robert to it. She threw it on the floor and stuck her index finger in Robert’s face. “It’s your fault. You didn’t listen to me. Now that monster is coming for us. I betrayed him. He’ll want revenge against me—and he’s the man who wiped out a cartel, who foiled your assassination attempts—coming for me.”
“Get out,” Robert said, standing up.
“It’s about time you get off your ass,” she said. “You bungler. You stupid man.” She drew her pistol and pointed it at him. “RUMAN is crumbling because of your incompetence. My brilliance and mine alone has led to the success of this organization. I cannot and will not sit by while your stubborn arrogance ruins it all. Sit down!”
Robert eased back into his seat, his pulse jumping. “Put that away.”
“Your days of giving orders are over. The meltdown is coming, and you’re taking the fall. It was my genius that built this up, and you’re the one who’s blowing it.”
“Your not rational, Leslie. Get a hold of your emotions.” Robert leaned forward, allowing his fingers to brush across his shoulder holster.
“Oh, I’d enjoy shooting you,” she said, laughing in a forced way.
“You’re forgetting about Curtis.” Robert was just buying time now. He could see she meant business. “Do you think he’ll just go away? We needed Brandt alive.”
“That was your theory, not mine.” The pistol in her hand shook.
“Leslie, I admit you’re good at what you do.” Robert’s fingers rested on the pistol in his holster. “I know you’re scared, but remember, you will be joining the Paymasters after we deal with this monster, and you can’t handle Brandt on your own. You’re a shrink, and you’re way out of your league.”
She jabbed the air with her pistol, keeping it pointed at Robert.
He gasped, afraid she would accidentally squeeze the trigger and blow a hole in his face.
“Brandt isn’t the only one you underestimated,” Leslie said. “You probably think I won’t use this.” She laughed. “Some brains can’t be helped. They need to be stopped.” She turned and hurried out the door.
Robert’s phone rang again. He took a deep breath and picked it up off the floor. “Yes?”
“This is Ibrahim. A team of paratroopers has touched down on the mountain. We need more men up here.”
“Paratroopers? How many?”
“Four or five. They’re causing hell up here.”
“I’ll send up reinforcements on the ATVs and I’ll join them because I plan to kill Brandt myself.”
“It’s not Brandt.”
“Who the hell is it then?”
CHAPTER 82
After leaving Robert, Leslie went to her quarters. She couldn’t believe that Robert was blaming this whole mess on her. He was going to make her take the fall for his bad judgment. She sat down and stared at the wall of the modular building. Her whole life was crashing down around her, but she was surprisingly calm. She had her emotions completely under control. No matter what happened, it didn’t seem to matter any more. She sat down on her bunk and looked back at her panicked meeting with Robert and the Paymasters and laughed. That was a good sign to her. If you could laugh at your problems, you were well on the way to healing. Smiling, she opened her purse and removed her lilac packet. Holding it under her nose, she inhaled. The scent was so wonderful it helped to put her problems into total perspective. Her emotions soothed out, and she realized that she was in control. Yes, she’d practically lost it in the conference room, but that was over, and she was herself again. Yes, and more. Much more.
That Brandt was coming—and maybe coming for her—was of no great concern. She could deal with it. She had to deal with it. Brandt was coming, and aroma therapy couldn’t change that. Maybe it was a mistake to sit around here trying to collect herself. If she was going to protect herself, it had to be now. Perhaps they would kill Brandt. Maybe he still hadn’t figured out what she had done. Anyway, even Brandt couldn’t get past all of Robert’s mercenaries. But if somehow he did …
CHAPTER 83
Holding his gun, Robert stood at the window of his pre-fabricated office, looking up at Jin Mountain. He took a call from the base commander.
“Some of the mine guards are still not responding to my calls.”
“We have home-court advantage,” Robert said, laying his gun on the desk. “Neutralize the intruders immediately. We cannot have them in the mine.”
“I’ve already ordered my men to take them.”
“I want them ID’d ASAP. And where’s Brandt?”
“We’re on his trail. He’s penetrated the mine.”
“Then his time is up. Call me as soon as you have him.”
Robert set down the phone and leaned back in his chair. He drummed his manicured fingernails on the desk. He looked around his make-shift office warily.
He shoved his gun into his shoulder holster and moved to a metal cabinet and unlocked its double doors. Opening it, he withdrew an M-16. He kneeled down at the window and closed the curtains. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall, rifle aimed at the door.
CHAPTER 84
As the golf cart hummed down the mine shaft, Chuck thought about the mass of mountain overhead. There was far more rock above him than if he’d been underneath one of the pyramids of Egypt. He thought of the immigrants held against their will.
Nadif drove deep into the mountain. When they passed an area that was honeycombed with mine shafts, a loud voice came over a megaphone.
“Stop the cart or we open fire.”
Chuck turned to look and saw that they were in the sights of a machine gun mounted on the roof of a golf cart. He knew it was all about to come to a disastrous end right there in the tunnel of Jin Mountain. Thoughts of Lydia flashed through his mind.
He put his hands up. “Do what he says.”
The golf cart shook to a halt.
“Get out,” the voice said.
“Put down your weapons.”
“When I say to run,” he whispered. “Run down that side tunnel.”
“Okay”
“Now!”
All three lunged into the darkness. A moment later, Chuck heard gun fire. “As soon as they got into the tunnel shaft, Chuck realized his mistake.
“It’s a dead end.” Dean glanced back toward the main tunnel. “Now we’re toast.”