‘I’ve activated the last pump station,’ reported Gould. Perhaps sensing the direction of Cairns’s thoughts, he shifted uncomfortably at his workstation. ‘I’m not sure this is a wise idea. It might not be enough time to get in and out. Maybe we should stagger the pumps. And we should have more men guarding this door. Two isn’t enough. You’ve seen what the creatures can do.’
Cairns ignored the whiney runt and keyed his radio. ‘Bora, the diversions are operating, you are free to move at speed.’
‘Copy that,’ responded Bora a second later.
Now Cairns turned and locked his withering gaze on Gould.
The little worm was a bundle of nervous ticks and involuntary habits. Even on the rare occasion when the scientist was completely still, he looked to be twitching on the inside.
He’s pitiful.
Cairns spoke quietly. ‘Two men like you wouldn’t be enough. Don’t judge my men by your own standard. If you do your job properly, we won’t need any men guarding this door. Let’s call it professional incentive.’
Gould rolled his eyes and focused on his computer terminal.
Resisting the strong urge to scalp Gould slowly with a ball-point pen, Cairns turned back to the overhead screen. Later. You’ll get what’s coming to you, Gould. I’m going to relish every second of it.
Right now, Bora hunted the last Special Forces team. Unlike with Gould, Cairns had no doubts about Bora. Before his skills were noticed by the right people, Krisko ‘Bora’ Borivoj ranked a Lieutenant in the Czech Special Forces. It showed. In combat, Bora was as savage as a wild dog; at other times, however, from an observant comment or a half-hidden reaction, Cairns recognized a complex depth behind Bora’s brutish exterior. Most men at the top of their game kept a rein on their emotions, but Bora operated with an entirely different mental model. Animal instincts guided his decisions equally.
Plus, Bora possessed other skills qualifying him for this operation.
It all depended on what they found on level three.
Cairns moved to a keyboard and raised the digital floor plan of level three. Even from this comms-room, the only available data constituted a schematic outline of the laboratory’s floor plan. The computerized mapping software offered no other information. In fact, no information could be purchased anywhere in the world about the security arrangements on level three.
But Cairns knew that every system had a weak spot. No system was impenetrable.
He keyed his radio again. ‘Basement team, the diversions are operating. Transfer your equipment to level three.’
He allowed himself the luxury of a self-indulgent smile. With the Special Forces almost wiped-out, his preliminary work neared completion.
Now it was time to really get this mission started.
Marlin jerked his head around the corner and stole a snapshot view of the corridor ahead.
‘All clear,’ he reported.
Coleman hated these tight corridors. The confined spaces made him feel vulnerable and edgy. He was also worried about Fifth Unit.
He’d heard Stevens yell ‘No wait!’ over the radio, followed by the sound of gunfire. It wasn’t the familiar sound of a CMAR-17 firing. The caseless ammunition of the CMAR-17 produced a higher-pitched percussion wave that Coleman would instantly recognize over the radio. This sounded more like submachine gun fire. The submachine gun was the assault rifles’ nasty cousin, the perfect weapon in such a confined environment.
Now Fifth Unit wasn’t responding to Coleman’s request for a position update. It could very well be the jamming hardware interfering with their radios, but Coleman had graver suspicions. Impossible as it seemed, things had gotten worse. Vanessa and David unaccounted for, marauding creatures, Special Forces units obliterated, massive civilian casualties….
And now potentially another unidentified hostile force in the Complex attacking the Marines.
I need to contact the Evacuation Center. If David and Vanessa have evacuated safely, things would be so much better.
‘This is it,’ Marlin said, drawing Coleman’s attention to a door-sized vent in the corridor wall. The vent was locked, hinged on one side, and dark beyond. ‘This service passage joins the pool room. I have to cut the lock.’
‘Do it,’ Coleman said. ‘These corridors are making me nervous. I want to find the nearest intercom and contact the evac center.’
Marlin knelt and pressed cutting charge around the simple lock.
‘Clear,’ he warned, and they turned their eyes from the short, bright — crack! — of the cutting charge slicing through the metal. Marlin yanked open the vent and systematically swept every surface with flashlight light.
Coleman side-stepped into the service corridor after Marlin. The short corridor ended at another door-sized vent. Halfway along the corridor, a single intersection branched left. Marlin darted across the intersection and crouched at the second vent.
Coleman peered down the intersection. Beyond operated a massive ventilation plant room. Life underground offered no external windows, so the massive air-conditioning plant provided every breath of ventilation for the entire Complex. The oversized ventilation shafts radiated from the main plant like spokes on a bicycle tire. The boxy silver tunnels disappeared into the walls.
Coleman felt the fans’ vibrations through his boots. He couldn’t see a phone or intercom on any of the walls. There might be one in the pool room.
‘Captain,’ hissed Forest. ‘I think we’ve found First Unit.’
Coleman rallied to hear some good news for a change. Perhaps First Unit heard their radio message and decided to make for the pool room. Perhaps they picked up some survivors. Perhaps David. ‘Any civilians?’
Forest didn’t sound happy as he answered, ‘I think maybe the weapons inspectors.’
What? The inspectors were supposed to stay out of harm’s way up on the plug until Coleman gave the all-clear. Why would First Unit have brought them to the pool room?
‘Are you sure?’ Coleman asked, crossing to the vent.
‘God knows.’ Forest sounded shaken. He pushed open the vent. ‘You’ve got to see this.’
The first thing Coleman saw was a twenty-five meter swimming pool littered with debris and floating corpses. The dead wore Marine Corps fatigues. For a moment, Coleman couldn’t understand how the Marines came to be floating in the pool.
Then he looked up. His hope fizzled like a misstruck match.
Embedded in the ceiling was a US Marine Corps Pave Hawk helicopter.
He recognized the helicopter’s designation. It was their mission’s first deployment Pave Hawk, the same helicopter the weapons inspectors were supposed to be waiting in for the all clear. Bewildered by the totally unexpected sight, Coleman groped for an explanation. He scanned the pool room. Somehow, at least half of First Unit managed to reach the helicopter waiting up on the plug. The helicopter had taken off, and then somehow flipped over in-flight and crashed into the pool room’s transparent ceiling.
The pool room itself measured only slightly larger than the pool, and its ceiling framed a huge plexiglass skylight. The helicopter’s impact smashed through the skylight, and now the entire top half of the aircraft hung precariously suspended above the pool.