Born of Chaos

by Jeff DeMarco

  “We want to involve General Nichols on this?” Blanco asked.

  Jaeger clipped his helmet on. “You out of your mind?” He slipped fresh magazines into pouches on his body armor. “They’re operating under his nose. He’s got to be in on it.”

  “We’ll help you out… find your missing personnel.” Blanco shook his head. “But I don’t like this one bit.”

  Dustin put his hand on Blanco’s shoulder. “Welcome to the new world, Sir.”

  “We’re talking about mutiny here.” Blanco put his Kevlar knuckle gloves on, rolled his sleeves up, exposing a SEAL Trident tattoo on his forearm.

  “I guess that makes us a little like pirates.” Jaeger grinned, a wild gleam in his eyes. “Meet you on the airfield, 15 minutes.”

  CHAPTER 26

  The SEALs walked with a subtle swagger to the aircraft, their faces cloaked in siege masks and goggles, Blanco in the lead.

  Jaeger nudged Dustin, as he admired the approaching operators. “Yaaar, me mateys!”

  Blanco pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

  “Ready to make history?” Jaeger asked.

  Blanco sighed. “Fuck it… not the worst choice I’ve ever made.” He turned to his SEALs. “Three targets tonight. Target 1, Major General Peters, rescue. Target 2…” He leaned over to Jaeger and whispered. “Who’s the second target?”

  “It’s Captain Freeman’s, um…” Jaeger ran his hands across his chin.

  “Sniper.” Dustin interrupted. “She’s my sniper. Name’s Ari Gedide, Israeli. Dark hair, dark complexion, last seen in olive drab pants and a black top, black jungle boots.”

  “Right…” He shot Dustin an odd look. “Rescue. Target 3, CIA, FBI or other DoJ operative – Black fatigues, unkempt hair and beard, capture and interrogate…” He briefed the team on the entry and exit plan, potential enemy combatants. “Be prepared for electromagnetic pulse and radar jamming – may render our equipment and optics useless. We’re not sure of the Special Forces team guarding the headquarters. Aim to wound and disable, not to kill. Immobilize and disarm.” He looked out to his team, over to Dustin and Jaeger, the security team. “This is a combat operation on a U.S. Military installation. Our opposition are U.S. Military and government personnel. Anyone not willing to engage in this operation, step forward – no action will be taken and I will not think less of you.” He waited… His men stood, unwavering in their resolve. “Alright, fuck the pep talk, move out!”

  “I saw you in battle.” Michael sat, perched up on a rooftop ledge, adjacent the Forces Command Building. “…Amazing.”

  “I wouldn’t call it that.” Erica focused on a sniper some 400 yards away, bent his firing pin.

  Michael studied her. “What would you call it?”

  “Damning… Murderous… compromising.”

  “It got the job done.”

  She rolled her eyes. “At what cost?”

  “I admit, I saw what happened after,” Michael edged closer in a whisper, sensing the roving patrol below. “How we live is as important as why.”

  “You saw that…” She edged further from him. “So?”

  “What?” He located another sniper, fused the bolt of his rifle to the chamber. “I’m supposed to say something comforting?”

  “Well no, I-“

  “You made a choice, just like now, you’ve made another choice,” Michael said. “Good or bad, it changed who you are, and now you’re you, for better or worse. Just like I did in coming here.”

  She looked at him, exploring his eyes. “And why are you here?”

  “A friend…” He pointed down at the building. “She’s inside there.”

  “I meant…” She stopped, sensing movement towards the building.

  “For what it’s worth,” He leaned in close and whispered. “I think you made the right choice.”

  “Look,” she pointed down at the team heading for the front entrance.

  “Your Dad.” Michael smiled at her. “Good guy; we’ve met before… Not in person, of course.”

  “We could peel the building apart.” She propped up on the ledge. “Like an onion.”

  “Too risky,” he said, kicking his legs over the ledge. “Could bring the floors crashing down, kill everyone.”

  She jumped, falling four stories to the ground. Her landing, near silent, made a small thud in the dirt; then another as Michael landed. Grass rustled as they ran in opposite directions.

  Erica held her hands to the earth, her mind reaching meters below the building. She searched through soil and dirt, the telltale sign of moving electrons. As she circled the building, she could feel it, electricity whizzing past just beneath her. She felt the copper strands, the plastic coating and conduit. It pulled from the earth, mounds of dirt lifting through green grass; then severed in a single clean cut. ‘Power’s off,’ her mind whispered to Michael.

  The SEAL team moved with precision, tasked with breaching the side entrance. Michael mirrored their movement, so silent and swift they hadn’t even noticed. They ran in darkness, using the building for cover, to avoid the spotlight.

  Michael watched and burst the bulb inside of the light. He could hear the shuffling of boots on the rooftop, the Soldier no doubt panicked.

  The SEALs stacked on the door. The rear man came up and slapped a wad of plastic explosive near the knob.

  Michael walked up. “Stop.” His mind felt the internal mechanism and slid the bolt from the striker plate, turned the knob and opened the door.

  The SEALs looked at him for a moment, then Commander Blanco ran into the open, grabbed Michael and pulled him back to the building. “What the hell are you, kid?”

  “Special,” Michael whispered. “What the hell are you?”

  Blanco stared at him for a moment, his bright green eyes and fiery hair shone in moonlight, entranced at his examination. An image passed before his eyes and he was back. “Stay behind us,” he whispered, then tapped the point man’s shoulder.

  The point man swung his rifle into the doorway and crept, fast and low, his movements fluid and elegant. The team moved through, one after the other, dominating the room. They each touched their neckband and whispered, “Clear.”

  They stacked on an interior door, as it swung open, light glinting off night vision glass as they poured in.

  Michael’s hands opened towards them and they shot back, skidded across the floor. “Go!” The SEAL team was already on top of them, pulling their weapons, pinning their hands with cable ties.

  They entered an empty corridor. Michael sensed it as they cleared each room; only a single metal door was left, locked and impassable. He touched his hand to the door. His sight stopped beyond it. He put his ear to it, the hum of a generator inside. “This is it,” he said, as Jaeger’s team piled into the corridor.

  Dustin glared down at Michael, his thoughts apparent on his face.

  “She’s[DDL14] outside,” Michael whispered. “Took out the power.”

  Blanco put his hand to the door and then moved out of the way.

  “I can’t follow you.” Michael motioned the breech man forward.

  They pushed inside to a makeshift prison, a hallway stopping in a T intersection, rows of metal doors secured with metal hasps and locks. Conduit and piping ran across the walls like a fence. In the distance, a large main conduit ran the length of ceiling; like veins of a leaf, smaller conduit shot out either direction, to a set of ten rooms. In the dim hallway light, ultraviolet light pierced out the cracks of one doorway.

  The generator’s hum became stronger the further they pushed forward. They moved towards UV light. The breach man pulled a crowbar from his vest, popped the hasp from the door. The team was swift inside; a girl, her face battered and bruised, eyes closed, sat upright, her hands in her lap, feet flat on the floor, a wide black metal collar around her neck. They were gentle, but firm, placing her on her stomach inside the room, binding her hands behind her back. “Stay put,” Lieutenant Engel whispered. “We’ll be back fo
r you in a minute.”

  “The key,” she whispered. “Hanging outside the door.”

  He stood and grabbed it, then looked down at her, curiously, hesitantly; he inserted the key into an open slot on the collar. It popped open with a metallic ‘ting,’ and he pocketed the key.

  She lay there, moving her neck around, her thoughts free flowing now, reaching as far as the confines of the room would let her. Unafraid to use her powers now, she found the interference unnerving, claustrophobic.

  They moved towards the T intersection. Jaeger and Dustin’s team went left, Blanco and the SEALs to the right. No conduit or copper pipes, rather dozens of doors lit with UV light, the sounds of death metal music blaring into the hallway. They broke through doors, one by one. Bodies left weak, their arms wrenched up and behind, a stress position used for interrogation.

  They heard the bark of dogs in one room. Blanco was the first in. Two dogs were tied, only inches from the emaciated prisoner’s face. “Hey, hey,” he whispered to the dogs, whistled, his hands up, eyes down submissively. “Shhhh.” He pulled a granola bar from his cargo pocket, let them sniff it; even managed a pat on the head of one of the dogs.

  As they wolfed down the treat, he cut through the prisoner’s restraints and dragged him from the room.

  “Fucking bitch!” [DDL15]A man’s voice echoed through a door. Dustin heard a body slamming against the wall. He pulled the shotgun from its scabbard along his back and shot through the hasp, making sure to avoid any ricochet. One hand was cuffed, secured to a metal eyelet on the table. The other cuff open, pressed against the eyelet, her right hand free.

  Joe had pushed himself into a corner, blood trickling down his face from under his hands. He opened his eyes. With Dustin approaching; he reached for his pistol.

  Dustin racked another shell into the breach of his shotgun, as Joe raised his arm.

  Dustin took aim and fired near point blank. Blood and tissue ran red down the wall, parted by buckshot peppered holed. [DDL16]

  The pistol bounced off the wall, then to the floor with a ‘thud.’ The man raised his arm, the hand hanging by shreds of muscle and tendon. He wiped the blood from his nose, as the buttstock of Dustin’s shotgun landed on his temple.

  He Dustin was quick, the combat tourniquet secured to his body armor, now secured to Joe’s forearm within seconds, to avoid him bleeding out.

  The other arm, the one still whole, reached up, felt the gash on his head, his broken nose.

  Dustin searched Joe’s pocket for keys, uncuffing Ari from the table. They grabbed him [DDL17]under the armpits and dragged him into the hallway, handcuffed him to a doorknob.

  They busted through the next room over where they discovered General Petersen, seated in a metal folding chair, his hands bound behind his back.

  “Nichols,” Petersen said.

  Dustin knelt down to open the cuffs.

  Jaeger stepped inside. “Stop.”

  “Explain yourself!” Petersen glared at Jaeger, bending down to grab the keys from Dustin. “Uncuff me, damnit!”

  “It’s one of those moments, Sir.” Jaeger rubbed his eyes in a long sigh. “Nothing here is in violation of any law…”

  Dustin looked at him wide eyed. “What about Ari?“

  He put his hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “Just trespassing… I’ll fight that fight. Bring her along.” He looked down at General Petersen. “Him on the other hand… part of an organization that nearly wiped out humanity,” Jaeger said. “Truth be told, I should have relieved and arrested him the second I found out.”

  “God damn it, Jaeger,” Petersen looked at him in shock. “You’re going to stand there and argue legality?! Every moment we wait, Nichols is mounting a response.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.” Jaeger shook his head. “Not sure what CIA is doing here, but I’m with General Nichols on this one.”

  Petersen stared, a fury in his eye. “So much for loyalty.”

  At the other end of the corridor, prisoners lay restrained and awaiting extraction. Blanco pried open a utility room, the generator humming loudly on the other side. “Night vision!” he yelled to the team, as he cut power to the generator. Lights cut to black. Seconds later battery backup lights flipped on, a dim ultraviolet glow in the hallway.

  Erica’s mind locked on to Ari; she sprinted towards the entrance.

  In a flash, Kristin’s eyes opened. With a burst of strength, her hands pried the zip ties apart. She rose and walked down the corridor. She saw Dustin and Ari approaching, dragging Joe in hand.

  They looked at her, confused. “Stop right th-“ An unseen force drove them back and onto the floor.

  ‘Kristin, no!’ a voice whispered inside of her, ignored. Michael ran for her.

  She grabbed Joe by the throat, reached down, her hand like a knife slicing into his lower abdomen. She felt his pain, shooting and searing into his midsection, reveling in it. A shred of her life returned as his blood spilt on the floor.

  He fell to his knees and she shoved him to his back, then slammed the heel of her hand onto his sternum, breaking through ribs. She delved back into his lower abdomen, up to the crux of her elbow and lifted.

  His body lifted with her arm, his abdomen stretched, pressing his guts to his abdominal wall. She shook downward, her fingertips piercing below his ribcage, spilling him open. She leaned down and whispered, “How does it feel to have someone inside you?”

  She pushed his intestines to the side and gripped the center of his ribcage, pulled it apart, exposing his heart and lungs, its rhythm now frantic. She looked down at her hands, the blood. A sickening feeling washed over her face. She grabbed Joe’s head, a sharp twist and the rhythm of his heart stopped.

  She walked to General Petersen’s room, his hands still restrained to the chair; she pinned Colonel Jaeger hard against the wall. “The Order,” she whispered; she placed a hand on one shoulder, her other raised, poised to strike.

  “Kristen,” Michael yelled. “No!” Her hand came down fast and fatal towards his chest.

  Only inches, the chair whipped back into the wall, cracking the cinderblocks.

  Michael tackled her, held her on the ground.

  She shoved and wriggled, trying to break free.

  “Come back to me, Kristin,” he whispered.

  Erica rushed in, pried the cuffs off of the General. He slumped to the ground, then looked up, his head dazed from the impact. Erica stood there in a halo of light. Petersen’s mind shifted to an incomprehensible, yet extraordinary thought.

  Michael took Kristin’s face in his hands. “You’re safe,” he whispered.

  The wild in her eyes strained and darted like a caged animal, cornered and wounded.

  “You’re safe.” He ran his fingers through her hair, as she tugged ravenously at the back of his shirt.

  He stared at her, the wild in her eyes focused on his, fixed, mesmerized. “It’s me.”

  Her struggling slowed, then stopped. Her body still coiled to run.

  “Remember me?” He whispered again, touching his forehead to hers, the tips of his fingers caressing her cheek. Her breathing had slowed into a choppy rhythm. She closed her eyes, pressing out tears. Her arms tightened around him as their lips touched and hearts raced.

  His lips shifted beside her ear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should have never left you alone with him.”

  She squeezed tighter.

  He stood. Her arms clung around his neck as he lifted and carried her.

  SEALs led as they moved out the front entrance.

  “Stand down!” General Nichols yelled, flanked on either side by paratroopers, facing the entrance.

  “It’s over, Sir,” Petersen yelled. “What you’re doing… It stops, now.”

  Nichols chuckled. “No, you see it’s just beginning.” Two Soldiers stepped out, puck shaped objects in their hand.

  Dustin stared intently at the objects. “I know what those are.” He looked down at Erica.

  Ari crouched, grabbed E
rica by the waist.

  “Munition Delivered Non-Kinetic Effect,” he whispered. “Signal jammers. Load ‘em in the base of a 155 howitzer round, disables communications, electromagnetic waves.”

  “The way I see it,” Nichols said in a softer tone. “You all have a choice… Those interrogation tactics, perfectly legal by order of our President. General Petersen, on the other hand…” His voice hissed as he said the name. “Part of ‘The Order of the Double Edged Sword,’ an illegal organization, religious zealots, genocidal dictators, domestic terrorists… the ones that unleashed these creatures on us… the ones that created these children, these freaks of-“

  “It’s not like that, Nichols,” Petersen yelled. “You know it’s not like that. I had nothing to do with either of those things and what’s more, I understand now…” He yelled out at the crowd that had gathered. “I understand that you can’t make people believe as you’d wish. When I joined The Order, I wanted the world to believe as I did, share in the same morality. I was…” He turned to Nichols. “A lot like you.”

  “Either way,” Nichols said. “For the rest of you… Join me, help me restore order, the letter of the law. Stay with him and I’ll hang you as traitors.”

  “I’m sorry, everyone.” Petersen sighed. “I never wanted this for humanity… and I won’t have anyone executed on my account.” He dropped to his knees and put his hands behind his head. The paratroopers pressed in on him.

  “We should go,” Michael whispered, tightening his grip around Kristen.

  Ari and Dustin crept back slowly, their thoughts already in sync. They reached the main entrance, then sprinted through the darkness, over Soldiers bound along the floor. They stopped at the side entrance, scanning the distance. Dustin grabbed the girls and hugged them. He ran his hand along Ari’s cheek and kissed her.

  “You heard him.” Ari gripped him by the collar. “He’ll hang you.”

  “Who would I be…” Dustin let out a long sigh. “If I let an innocent man die?”

  “Alive,” Ari whispered, as tears began to stream down her face. “And with your family.”