The conference room door opened. Dalton hurried in and handed Celeste a piece of paper.
“What is that?” Kim asked.
“A list of bases that have been hit,” Celeste said without looking up. “It’s about a fifty-fifty mix of survival stations and Project bases.”
They were all silent for a moment.
“What about Dream Sky?” Kim asked.
Celeste looked over at Dalton, who mouthed, “No problems.”
“Untouched,” Celeste announced.
5
Chloe was the last to arrive at the rendezvous point.
“Trouble?” Ash asked.
“Of course not,” she said. She held out the black Project Eden snowsuit and headgear she’d taken from her target. “This looks about your size.”
As he took the clothes from her, he sensed something amiss. “You all right?”
“Fine,” she answered quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He studied her as she walked off but decided not to press. Mission stress, he thought. God knew they were all feeling it.
After removing his jacket, he was able to pull the snowsuit over the rest of his clothes. Once he zipped it up, he tested his range of movement and was satisfied the security outfit wouldn’t restrict him too much. He then motioned for the others to gather around.
“Phase two will not be nearly as easy as phase one. If you have any questions, now would be the time to ask.” He paused, but no one said anything. “All right, then. Remember, once your group’s in position, no one moves until you receive the signal. Good luck.”
He headed over to where the four who’d be going with him waited. Three men — Edward Powell and two from Powell’s advance team — were also wearing snowsuit uniforms confiscated from other Project Eden sentries. The only one not dressed this way was Curtis Wicks.
To Wicks, Ash said, “You ready?”
“Would it matter if I wasn’t?” Wicks asked.
Dream Sky level zero was at the very top of the facility, nearest the surface. It consisted of only two rooms — a large open space known as Transition, and the smaller area called the security control center that was accessed through a short hallway.
The transition room was well named. In the center, a ladder led down from the unassuming hut entrance in the snow-covered field above Dream Sky, and at the end opposite the control center were the two elevators that provided the means to reach the rest of the facility.
There was a second entrance, but it had been sealed off a few days after Implementation Day, so with the ladder currently being the only way in and out, securing Dream Sky was not difficult. Still, vigilance was imperative, hence the rotating squads of lookouts in town, and the two men in the control center monitoring an array of security cameras.
The most excitement those on control-center duty experienced was when a new topside squad went out and the old one returned. Other than that, the tedium was nearly unbearable.
To survive their shifts, Morris and Lochmere — the two on graveyard that night — had devised a system where one would monitor the screens and the other would do whatever he wanted for fifteen minutes before they switched.
“Can’t believe people used to read this crap,” Morris said, thumbing through the tabloid magazine one of the other teams had left behind.
Lochmere glanced over and then returned his gaze to the monitors. “You’re reading it.”
“Because it’s funny.” Morris grinned. “Even more so now, you know? Their lives were even more bullshit than they realized.” He flipped to a page featuring a young bikini-clad actress walking on a beach. “Wouldn’t mind if she survived, though,” he mumbled.
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
As Morris turned to another page, the alarm on Lochmere’s watch went off.
“Time,” Lochmere said.
“You sure you’ve got that set right? Seemed pretty fast.”
“Shut up and give me that.” Lochmere snatched the tabloid from Morris and started the timer again.
Reluctantly, Morris turned his attention to the monitors.
It had been over two weeks since he’d last stepped foot outside the base, and the idea of getting some fresh air was appealing. If it wasn’t so damn cold, he’d volunteer for an outside shift. Maybe when the snow started to melt, he could—
He sat forward. On the feed from a camera hidden on the roof of the hut, he saw several people entering the meadow. From their clothes, they appeared to be security.
He checked the time and frowned. “Did the schedule change?”
“What?” Lochmere said, looking up from the magazine.
“Did Gamma squad go out early?”
“Early? No. What the hell are you talking about?”
“Well, then why is Omega squad heading in?”
“Eyes open. Signal if you see any movement,” Ash said.
His team walked toward the entrance to Dream Sky in a tight formation — Ash and Powell shoulder to shoulder in front, and Sealy and Harden a few feet back on either side. Tucked within them was Wicks, the hope being that they could hide him from any cameras as long as possible.
“Curtis, you doing okay?” Ash asked.
“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Wicks said.
“We’d all appreciate it if you’d hold that off for a while,” Powell whispered.
“I’ll do what I can.”
Ash eyed the hut through his night vision goggles. The building looked just as unassuming up close as it had from the woods. He figured most people would have never even noticed it, let alone wondered what might be inside. In the world before the virus, even he wouldn’t have given it a second glance.
Wicks had told them Dream Sky was a repository of irreplaceable knowledge. Ash had thought he meant it was some kind of library, but the former Project Eden member had quickly said, “No. Not a library. People.”
When pressed for details, all Wicks would say was that if they could take the base, it would all but bring down Project Eden. Ash hoped he was right.
They walked at a brisk pace through the snow down the well-worn path leading to the hut.
When they had gotten within thirty feet, Ash whispered, “All right, Curtis. You’re up.”
“Who the hell is that?” Morris asked.
He and Lochmere had been watching the security team approach the hut, but as it neared, they realized a fifth man was walking among the sentries.
“They must have captured a survivor,” Lochmere suggested.
Morris frowned. Survivors were not to be brought to Dream Sky, but rather to be assessed in town and either eliminated or shipped off to the survival station near Boston.
“Maybe we should call this down,” Lochmere said.
His attention remained on the monitor as he picked up the phone, but his finger never hit the button.
On the screen, the two security team members in front split as they approached the hut, allowing the unknown man to step forward. Looking directly at the camera, the guy pulled something out of his pocket and raised it to the lens.
“Son of a bitch,” Lochmere whispered.
Morris stared in surprise for a second, and then zoomed the camera in so that they could be sure they weren’t seeing things.
They weren’t.
Chloe’s team moved across the hill, side by side, searching the ground ahead. There weren’t enough night vision goggles for everyone, so those who’d been given a pair were spread among the others in hopes that would keep the team from missing anything important.