“Alpha, Bravo, you need to make your way to extract immediately,” the drone pilot said over their comms. “Movers surrounding your building.”
“Alpha, requesting permission to open fire,” Delta’s lead said.
“Do not open fire,” Reynolds replied. “I repeat, do not open fire.”
O’Neil could imagine the other fireteams desperate to provide assistance but looking on helplessly from the top of the parking garage. They would want to help their brothers as much as O’Neil would have had he been in their position.
If Delta and Charlie opened fire now, they might succeed in cutting down a swathe of the incoming Skulls. That would hardly quell the tide of beasts. They might only really succeed at drawing attention to parking garage, compromising the secondary exfil and the other SEALs.
Alpha and Bravo worked their way down the halls, busting into doors, clearing rooms. Still finding no evidence of the scientists, dead or alive.
Henderson tried to open one door that looked like the entrance to a walk-in freezer. The door was a good six feet wide and nearly seven feet tall. He pulled on the handle.
“Won’t budge,” Henderson said. He started knocking on the door. “US DEVGRU. Here to rescue you!”
No one responded from inside.
Henderson tried again.
“Leave it,” Reynolds said.
O’Neil was about to signal his guys to move on when he thought better of it. He recognized a door like that.
“Chief, if the targets are here, they’re behind that door,” O’Neil said.
The monstrous calls in the building kept getting louder, echoing up the stairs. O’Neil could hear the clatter of talons on the tiled floor and the claws scratching at the walls and doors from just down the stairwells. Would only be a matter of seconds before the creatures made it up here.
“No one’s answering,” Reynolds said. “We move.”
“Chief, respectfully, if they’re here, that’s it.” O’Neil hated contradicting orders, but they needed to find those targets. “It’s a warm-room. Thick steel door to keep in the humidity and regulate the temperature. Walls just as thick. If they’re inside, they can’t hear our voices. Just us pounding on the door. They would probably think we’re Skulls.”
“How the hell do you know all that?” Stuart asked.
“Dad was a prof. Cell biologist. Trust me.”
Reynolds blew out a breath, then looked at Stuart, Henderson, and McLean, pointed at them to take up positions down the hall. Then he gestured at Tate. “Breaching charge. Now.”
“You got it, Chief,” Tate said.
The rookie Team Six operator fished a small charge from his tac vest and placed it near the locking mechanism on the door. He set a short fuse, then backed away, turning his head.
“Breaching,” Tate said.
A muffled pop burst from the door in a puff of smoke and bright flash of white light. If the Skulls didn’t know they were on the third floor, they did now.
The door groaned, and Loeb tore it open. O’Neil swept the room. Like he’d suspected, the place was filled with stainless steel racks. Each contained stacks of test-tubes and vials. He recognized devices used to shake small vials and plastic containers to mix the contents inside for experiments.
But none of that mattered. What did were the three men and two women huddled on the far end of the room. One of the women held a fire extinguisher like she was going to bash O’Neil’s head with it.
“US DEVGRU,” O’Neil said. “Tell me you’re human.”
“We… we’re human,” the woman with the extinguisher said.
She had blood over the front of her suit jacket and blouse.
“What’s that from?” O’Neil said, lowering his weapon only slightly and pointing at the stains.
“It’s not mine. I wasn’t scratched.”
“Then what’s it from?”
“Bao. Uh, Bao Nguyen. One of our colleagues who turned.”
“Was that Bao in the conference room?” O’Neil asked.
She shook her head. “That was Lennar. We don’t know where Bao went. We hid in here when Bao attacked Lennar. We didn’t realize Lennar had been scratched until it was too late and we—”
“Doesn’t matter right now,” O’Neil said. “If you all aren’t going to turn on us, we need to get you the hell out of here.”
“Yes, sir,” the woman said.
The other four seemed to stand straighter next to her now that they realized they were being rescued. They began hoisting backpacks over their shoulders, and two of them carried boxes filled with files and what appeared to be portable hard drives.
Reynolds was already speaking into his mic when O’Neil led the scientists back into the hall. “Nightwing, Alpha Actual. We have twelve packs.” He looked at the SEALs, then the scientists. “Eight sierras, five packages.” The Skulls’ shrieks kept growing louder. “This will be a hot extract at primary extract.”
“Alpha Actual, Nightwing One,” the pilot of their Black Hawk said. “Roger and copy. ETA two minutes at primary extract.”
Reynolds signaled for his team to reconverge. But before they made it more than a few steps, the tap of talons against tile exploded from the hallway where they had originally entered the building.
A Skull appeared against the top of the distant stairwell. Its head swiveled their direction, and it let out a shrill cry. The monster sprinted at them, its bony plates rattling together, the overgrown shoulder blades pumping behind it.
Stuart and Henderson centered their IR lasers from their rifles on the center of the beast’s chest. They opened fire, the staccato burst of their rifles filling the halls and muted flashes burst from the end of their suppressed rifles.
Armor-piercing rounds punched into the beast’s organic armor. Bone splintered away with each impact. The monster sprawled forward, sliding across the floor, carried by its own momentum. Soon as it went down, another three beasts took its place, arms flailing, barreling toward the team.
More shots rang out. Bullets lanced down the hall, tearing into the monsters. Each shot and every cry from the dying monsters only served to rile up the other Skulls inside the building. The clatter of footsteps grew fiercer, their voices booming through the halls.
“Move, move, move!” Reynolds said. “Bravo, you take point!”
Tate and O’Neil began sweeping ahead, watching the doorways, making sure no monster came bursting out from an office. Van and Loeb stuck close behind, corralling the scientists, keeping them close.
At the end of the hall, O’Neil spotted the doorway that would lead to a stairwell that was supposed to take them to the roof. They were halfway down the hall. Almost to the door. Almost to extract.
Gunfire continued to explode behind them. The wet slurp and thud of bodies hitting the floor came between the gunshots as Reynolds’s team called out the positions of more and more Skulls rocketing toward them from the intersecting hallway.
“Almost there,” O’Neil said to the scientists. “We’re getting you guys—”
More monstrous voices exploded behind them as beasts burst up from another stairwell. Van and Loeb opened fire. At the same time, one of the scientists took off, yelling in terror. He started to run ahead of O’Neil and Tate.
Tate lunged after the man, grabbed his collar, and threw him backward, where the woman who’d had the fire extinguisher took hold of his wrist. She scolded him, but O’Neil couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying over the noise of the gunfire and the Skulls.
Just as Tate started to fall back toward O’Neil, a shape erupted out of a doorway in front of him. O’Neil fired. His shots slammed into the side of the aggressor, but not before the hostile charged into Tate. The attacker was more man than monster. It had been infected just long enough that its bones jutted out the end of its fingers, and it swung those budding claws right at Tate’s chest, tearing into his vest.