She flicked on the light and stifled a scream.
For the second time in one day, she had illuminated the space around her to find it full of bodies.
FIFTY-FOUR
Endgame Headquarters, White Mountains, NH
The mood in the subterranean base was grim as everyone packed up for a war. Deep Blue and King had returned to the base in the Black Hawk and found the White Team members just finishing packing up. The Persephone was loaded up with weaponry, more of the armored suits and computer arrays. By the time the Black Hawk touched down outside the Central section’s enormous hangar door, Deep Blue was pleased to note that Lewis Aleman was installed in a computer station inside the VTOL plane’s midsection. He would be monitoring the situation from inside the plane as it sat on the pavement, instead of inside the base.
Callsign: Black Seven, and his brother, Black Eight, the team’s mechanics, refueled the vehicle outside the hangar, readying it for the trip to Norway. Neither man spoke to him as he walked past them, which Deep Blue appreciated. They were focused on their job, even if it wasn’t the most glorious of positions.
The five members of the White security team, with callsigns White One through White Five, were stationed around the crescent-shaped transport ship, each man in snow-battle armor and armed with white-coated Mk 17 FN SCAR assault rifles. They each looked vigilant and angry.
Good, Deep Blue thought. Be angry and use that in Norway if you get a chance.
Each man was from the 10 ^th Mountain Division at Fort Drum, and there were no better men for an arctic or alpine assault force than 10 ^th men. The White team was specifically tasked with duties at the Endgame base, and these men were tasked with keeping the base secure. In any other circumstance, they would be staying behind, protecting Fiona and Sara, keeping support team members like Lewis Aleman and even himself safe from any attack by hostile forces. What the Chess Team field members-King, Queen, Bishop, Knight and Rook-did out in the world was difficult enough, without having to worry about the people you loved or the sanctity of your home. But this situation was desperate; the entire world was in danger, and Deep Blue had two members of Chess Team already missing and presumed dead. Another two members were already on site in Norway, but he had no idea if they were alive, captured or in the thick of things. Anna Beck, callsign: Black Zero, and Deep Blue’s covert operative, Black Six, were en route to Norway now.
The newly christened Endgame organization was scattered, and he didn’t yet know what to expect from this stabilized portal in the Arctic. He wanted every resource close and readily available. As he approached the hangar door, which he’d had to have refitted after a security incident earlier in the year, he saw Matt Carrack approaching him. Carrack, callsign: White Zero, was the head of base security and Deep Blue’s right hand in all things since his promotion to the role the previous summer. The man looked the part of his callsign, with his all-white Arctic gear and his weapons covered in white cloth wraps as well. Like the other security team members, Carrack wore the white version of the experimental impact-resistant armor. He carried his helmet under one arm as he approached Deep Blue.
“Sir. We’re just about ready to go. King is inside with Jet and Professor.” Carrack was referring to Sara Fogg by her security codename of Jet-a sly reference to her spiky black hair, likening her to the rock singer Joan Jett. Fiona had a security codename of Professor, because of her linguistic abilities. Neither woman was aware of the names, chosen by Carrack. The men studiously avoided using the names around the two.
Deep Blue looked at the man and nodded. He understood. King was saying goodbye. Just in case. “That’s fine, Zero.” In the field now, Deep Blue would refer to Carrack by his callsign, where he would normally refer to the man as Matt-one of the few team members with whom he would be so personal.
“The pilots and Black Five are aboard, as is Aleman. Rome-” Carrack had deemed George Pierce, callsign: Rome, “-is staying behind with Jet, Professor and the rest of Black Team. I’d prefer to have at least one security member with them, but I understand it’s not possible.”
Deep Blue nodded. “It’s not.”
Carrack continued. “Black One and Two will rendezvous with us just past Iceland. I’m ready to seal the base on your word. I have all the equipment you’ll need waiting for you on the plane.”
“Okay, just give me a minute with King.” Deep Blue left the man standing on the pavement and stepped into the dim hangar.
Deep Blue looked into the glassed-in office at the back of the hangar, just in time to see Fogg and Fiona unwrap their arms from around him. A group hug. The man was lucky. Tom Duncan had always been single, even as President. And he hadn’t had time to think about dating since.
No one in the office was speaking. Deep Blue walked up to the door and stuck his head inside the room.
“Am I interrupting?” He could see that their faces were drawn and tight.
Fogg wiped a stray tear from her eye. She looked at Deep Blue and said, “If you come back without him, I’ll-”
“Won’t happen,” Deep Blue said with forced confidence.
To his surprise, Fogg wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. “Be careful, Sir.”
He felt pressure on his waist and looked down to find Fiona squeezing him. He smiled at King. They were both lucky men.
“Enough of that,” King said. “We’ll be fine.” He leaned down to Fiona and spoke three words Deep Blue didn’t understand.
Fiona’s reply was just as mysterious. But then King kissed her forehead, kissed Fogg hard on the lips and headed to the door without another word.
Deep Blue followed, asking, “What did you say?” Though he had a pretty good idea.
“She’s teaching me to speak Siletz,” King explained. “I told her if you came back without me to keep Sara away from you.”
Deep Blue laughed. He had always appreciated the team’s ability to find humor before entering a lion’s den, or in this case, a dire wolf den.
Aleman approached, his face grim.
All the humor Deep Blue felt quickly drained out of him. He had worked with Aleman for a long time now and could read his facial expressions and body language with ease. “What is it?”
Aleman met the two men and looked at the floor, his lips twitching. “Casualty reports from the Exxon Building portal and collapse.”
Deep Blue frowned. Casualty reports with just one name on the list were hard to deal with. He knew this report would be far more difficult. But he needed to know. “How many?”
“Two thousand civilians, mostly taken by dire wolves. Despite being in New York, the number is lower than other areas because it appeared so far above the surface.”
“Military casualties?” Deep Blue asked.
“Two hundred and climbing. They’re still digging through the rubble. But…” Aleman squirmed. “They were able to confirm… Sir, General Keasling-he was below-he…”Aleman shook his head, then met Deep Blue’s eyes and used Keasling’s first name. “Michael is dead.”
THE SOUND OF FURY
FIFTY-FIVE
Fenris Kystby, Norway
4 November, 0100 Hrs
Anna Beck shot out of the sky at 700 mph, in a speed dive. The great thing was, she didn’t feel the effects of the jump on her body beyond the sensation of falling-no wind resistance or lack of oxygen. She was plummeting to the Earth from a temporarily retrofitted and recommissioned SR-71 Blackbird, from an altitude of 80,000 feet.
Even in a spacesuit, she wouldn’t have wanted to do a high-altitude low-opening (HALO) jump from such a height. But she had something much better than a spacesuit: the high-altitude, low-opening personnel orbital deployment vehicle-or HALOPOD. Resembling a very skinny egg of heat-resistant ceramic, titanium and reinforced carbon-carbon (RCC), which gave the nose of it the same black-snout look that the space shuttle had, the pod was a tiny capsule for a human to ride in. It was nose heavy, and had no motor, so it was basically a bomb.