Section IV, “Hercules and Athena….”
Nick eyed the camera slung under the roof overhang suspiciously, but it seemed to have no desire to follow his movements as he edged up to the security station recessed slightly into the bricks; outside one of the secondary entrances. He slipped over to the station and pressed the ‘power’ button.
“Identify for retina scan,” a digitally sampled female voice asked him.
“Roberto Silvero,” Nick answered nervously. The computer wasn’t programmed to recognize fear or untruths, however, so it simply proceeded to scan his right eye. He hoped mightily that the retinal print contact lens he had slipped in would work.
“Identity confirmed. Have a nice day, Mr. Silvero.” *Yea, it’s good to have friends that are good at bending laws.*
Nick popped the false contact out of his eye and ground it into the dirt, before opening the door. With the contact in, he couldn’t see anything on his right side, and he knew that a blind spot that big could get him killed. Nick motioned impatiently for Angellina to enter before the timer on the door signaled that it had been left open. She hurried in, and they proceeded to apply black grease paint to their faces and hands, from the small equipment bag that Nick had brought. During this operation, Nick constantly scanned the hallway, his right hand hovering near his holstered .44 automag, fearing a roaming guard would discover them. *The only wildcard in this operation,* he thought grimly, *the unknown human factor.* They proceeded a short distance down the white, antiseptic corridor, and came to the ventilation duct that was going to be their primary mode of travel for the next fifteen to twenty minutes. Nick removed the stainless steel knurled attaching screws and tilted up the white enameled grille, exposing the yard wide opening beneath. He boosted Angellina into the duct, then passed her the padded bag containing his computer and tools. He then pulled himself in and carefully closed the grate. He knew the ducts were rigged with intrusion sensors, but they were too dark inside for cameras. Nick trusted that John’s hack job had taken care of the sensors for the moment, so they made good time through the innards of the huge structure. He would have preferred a GPS and moving map display, but feared that the oscillators used to time the CPU operations and operate the screen pixel scan chips would be picked up by some sensor that they were unaware of. Paper had no such drawbacks. Quickly consulting a small map with his pen-sized flashlight, Nick motioned Angellina closer.
“I think we’re right here,” he whispered, pointing to the red ‘X’ on the paper. “Time to get out.”
Nick reached the air vent outlet and looked down. Unfortunately, this vent appeared to have been built by a different supplier, and was much more substantial in thickness and strength, than the one they had utilized for entry. With a limited field of view, he hoped no one else was in the corridor. Figuring that the vent wouldn’t just pop out like it always did in the movies, he drew his silenced .44 and blew out the corners opposite the hinge. With a solid kick from his booted foot, the grate swung down and over. Nick stuck his pistol through the opening first, then dropped his head for a quick recon. He scanned the corridor and saw nothing out of the ordinary. The access hatch that the plan showed sat mutely in the room’s far corner.
“Okay, the coast is clear. I’m going to drop down, then you jump. I’ll catch you.”
“Okay.”
Nick silently lowered his laptop case first, then himself; with a lot more noise than he had hoped for. The polished tile floor, white antiseptic walls and industrial issue drop-in grid ceiling revealed no veiled threats, so he turned to help Angellina down. He could have saved his time. Deftly, she came out headfirst and at the last second reached back with both hands and performed a front twisting somersault. She landed on her feet with nary a sound.
“Bravo,” Nick whispered. “Showoff.”
Angellina performed a mock bow, then laughed quietly.
“Where did you learn that?”
“The circus……..ha, no. I wanted to be a gymnast once. A little bit of it stuck with me.”
“I’ll say,” Nick retorted as he placed his pistol on the floor and took out his toolkit. After a few seconds of examination, he decided that removing the access panel should be as simple as it looked. The panel appeared to be nothing more than a stainless steel plate, with a series of fine parallel lines milled into its surface.
“Looks like only two Phillips screws.”
Nick pulled the screwdriver from his hip pouch and removed the access panel retaining screws.
“Are you up for this?” he asked, concern showing on his face. “That’s a long way down.”
“Guess we are going to find out, eh,” Angellina answered, sounding much more confident than she felt. She stripped off her black running pants and pullover fleece, leaving only black shorts and a gray tee shirt. This would give her more flexibility and speed. Her face looked almost clown-like, black against the pale skin of her exposed arms and neck.
“This is the only way in from this side. On the other side of this door is an alloy gate. Too strong to torch through, way too tough to cut. It is isolated from the central security grid, and apparently serves as an emergency exit in the event of some type of bio-toxic release or fire in the lab. The only other controller is on the other side of the gate. Catch-22 situation.”
“I know. I studied the plans too.”
“Well, good luck, then. I’ll wait right here, and hey, be careful, okay?”
“You are going to have to hold my feet. The shaft doesn’t widen until I hit the horizontal cross. I’m going to have to go head first.”
“Don’t forget, the release switch is on the left side of the grate, when you are facing it. Just reach through and turn it.”
“Got it. See ya in a few. Come on, let’s go. We only have about an hour until those motion sensors reactivate.”
Nick nodded, then hefted her by her ankles. Weighing surprisingly less than he had anticipated, he easily swung her out over the tunnel opening. Warm water lapped less than two feet down.
“Here we go,” Angellina called, then dragging a last deep breath, pulled downward on the ladder rungs that led to the bottom of the vertical shaft. As soon as he let go of her feet, Nick pushed the stopwatch button on his chronograph, and sat down to wait. As the rapidly changing numbers passed one minute, Nick found himself beginning to worry. He crawled back over to the shaft opening and peered inside. Nothing. A small badger of fear began to gnaw at his brain. Finally, he saw a thin stream of bubbles threading upward. He checked his watch quickly. Two minutes, twelve seconds. She had told him that she had never gone longer than this. Now he really began to worry. He could see her beginning to come back up the shaft; then suddenly, she grabbed one of the rungs and stopped. He immediately knew she wasn’t going to make it. A thin stream of bubbles broke surface next to him; became more pronounced, then heavy, then uneven, then slowed and stopped altogether. He could only see the top of her head, and her left hand. She seemed to be drifting up and down slowly, her hair furling and spreading like a golden gossamer shroud. He placed his pistol next to his laptop case, then commenced stripping off his heavy boots. Formulating a plan on the fly, Nick quickly grabbed a deep breath, then levered himself into the narrow shaft. His shoulders scraped both walls at some points, and he wondered if he would get stuck, too. He moved downward quickly, with powerful pulls of his shoulder muscles, reaching her in a matter of seconds.
*Okay, what now, genius?* Nick realized that there was no way to get past her, and he couldn’t back up. With a sudden flash of insight, he remembered that the shaft widened into a tunnel at the bottom of the vertical shaft, where it split off to join three other horizontal shafts. Carefully disengaging her hands from the rungs, Nick pushed Angellina to the bottom of the shaft, then levered himself around and below her. He thought about checking for a pulse, but decided he didn’t have time for any secondary considerations. He got behind her, then pushed for the surface with all the strength he could develop. Quickly reaching the top of the shaft, he wondered how to get out. *Guess I’m just going to have to heave her out first.* Nick worried about cracking her skull on the hard flooring, but knew that a possible concussion would certainly be preferable to her present fate, so he put his head under her rear and gave her a good shove, then climbed out himself. Coughing violently, he tried to catch his breath, then quickly turned to check on her condition. Nick found only a weak and thready pulse, and no detectable respiration, so he turned her over and tried to push most of the water out of her lungs. He then flipped her over again and commenced CPR. *Come on, kiddo, don’t leave me now.* He pinched her nose shut, and commenced artificial respiration. He worked desperately for several minutes, a growing fear constricting his chest. Finally, explosively, she coughed up what appeared to be about a half gallon of seawater, and commenced a terrible-sounding coughing fit. After a few minutes more, she looked up at him and laughed weakly.
“What did you do to me? My chest feels like somebody whacked it with a mallet, then kicked me in the head for dessert.”
“Well, ahhh, I think maybe I got a little carried away with the CPR thing. And I had to push you out of the shaft, so I could get out. I think I cracked your head on the tile while I was doing the hero thing.”
She smiled at him weakly, then commenced another coughing bout. While he waited for some color to return, Nick whispered a silent prayer of thanks. “Lord, you have been merciful. Don’t let me lose another one, please.”
Nick noticed that her extended immersion had washed off most of her black grease paint, but what was left had run down her face, creating a ‘Kiss’-like half black, half pale effect. He tried not to laugh, but ended up snickering anyway. The remnants of his adrenaline high were making him kind of dopey; so at this point, just about anything would seem funny.
“You oughta see your face right now. You’ve got black grease paint running down all over. Quite a striking effect, I believe.”
They both laughed, then he helped her to her feet; and quickly slipped back into his boots. She wobbled like a new-born colt, but managed to remain standing. He looped a sinewy arm around her shoulder for a moment, until she appeared to be more steady.
“Did you reach the switch?” he asked, the fingers on both hands crossed behind his back.
“Well if I hadn’t, I would send you back to do it again,” Angellina joked, her voice still a hoarse whisper. “What about the door?”
“I’ve got this one.”
Nick raised his silenced .44 and blew out a neat semi-circle around the door handle. A .38 probably would have had little effect, but the thick oak splintered and yielded to the power of his Magnum rounds. He gave the doorknob a good kick, breaking out the remaining wood, then pulled it open. He had noticed that the pistol was getting louder with each shot, and knew that the high powered rounds were destroying the silencer.
“Here’s the moment of truth,” he whispered. The polished alloy gate stood sentry a few paces beyond, its thick, criss-crossed welded oval section bars bearing mute witness to its massive strength.
At his lightest touch, the gate swung soundlessly open on roller bearings.
“Bingo.”
“What about the sensors?” Angellina asked.
“Forty minutes left. I’m more worried about randomly roaming guards.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about that. Let’s get going.”
Nick nodded assention as he swapped out his empty clip and slammed a fresh set of Magnums into the pistol’s butt. They hurried down the seemingly endless corridor and stopped outside the unofficial laboratory entrance.
“This isn’t even supposed to be here. The floor plan says this is a storage area and maintenance garage.”
“Maybe it was, once upon a time. I think this is where we will find the golden fleece. Lead on, Athena.”
Angellina rolled her eyes and looked at him strangely for a moment, then opened the door and went in. Nick turned around and looked up. The red light on the wall mounted motion sensor was still on, but the light underneath remained dark. *Only for about another thirty minutes, though.* Angellina turned around when he entered.
“We left my other clothes back in the hallway!” she whispered.
“Yea, well too late to worry about that now, either. Let’s get the goods and beat it.”
Nick placed his laptop case on a convenient table, then began searching for the lab’s main computer terminal. Finally finding it hidden behind a portable divider wall, he called up the medical access file, and typed in ‘Holly Williamson’. Within seconds, unintelligible streams of data were flying across the monitor.
“Oh, yea. Paydirt.”
Nick located a data port on the back of the PC and plugged his laptop into it, with the short USB port cable he had brought in his pack. Soon, the entire contents of the file were being copied to his hard drive, then shunted off to a DVD-RW.
“How many DVD’s did you bring? Angellina asked, while looking around the lab.
“Six. Hope that’s enough.”
“That would be about 48 gigabytes. Should be plenty, unless these guys have been a lot busier than we think.”
While he baby-sat his laptop, like any typical woman, she began rummaging through every cabinet and closet in the entire room. Finding nothing of interest beyond standard medical and lab supplies, she turned her attention to the next room, where stainless tables and monitoring equipment sat, silently gleaming. Angellina opened a cold storage freezer, then stepped back and uttered a muted scream. Nick immediately pulled his .44 and cocked it.
“Oh, my Lord. You have got to see this, this can’t be real,” she exclaimed.
Inside a bottle of formaldehyde floated a baby’s corpse. Nick didn’t notice anything unusual about it until he got closer. This baby had webbing between its fingers and toes, and sharp, almost reptilian eyeteeth poked out around its closed lips. The eyes were open and fixed in a blank stare. The pupils were slitted and yellow, like a feline’s.
“They did not…..” she trailed off, thoroughly repulsed.
“Can we get that out of here? We have got to have that for evidence.”
“No, it’s too cold. We have nothing to carry it in, and your fingers would freeze to the container. We have to leave it. Why didn’t I think to bring a camera? Look, there’s a label on here.”
The tag had been neatly produced on a self-adhesive label, by a laser printer. ’Specimen THD-1244. Born 01/12/2012, 14:17:22 hours. Deceased 01/16/2012, 03:27:53 hours.’
Angellina wasn’t sure which shocked her more, the matter-of-fact way that the bottle had been labeled, or that someone had wanted to keep it. Nick’s laptop beeped, and he changed DVD’s in the RW drive again.
“Nick, they must have detailed records of all these experiments. Do you think any of them lived more than a week?”
Nick shivered, then answered carefully.
“I’ve had this place under surveillance for the last couple of days. There have been planes coming and going almost ‘round the clock. Someone is moving equipment, and I think it is leaving, not coming in. They are packing up their marbles and going home to play.”
“We have got to make sure this stuff reaches the police. Forget the police, the Federal authorities. Do you have any idea how many Federal laws these guys have flaunted and violated?”
“I know. Check on that DVD. We only have about five minutes until the sensors turn back on.”
“It’s full.”
“Let’s go. No sense in getting greedy.”
“Agreed.”
Nick unplugged his laptop, put the cables away and shut off the main PC. He pulled his .44, then opened the door quietly. A quick scan revealed nothing. He stepped out into the corridor, then motioned for Angellina to follow. At that moment, a roaming guard came around a blind bend and into their hall. He saw Nick at the same time Nick saw him. His mistake was to try to go for his gun and radio simultaneously. Nick knew that they had to get out to make their findings known, so it was just this poor slob’s unlucky day. Reacting way too slowly, Nick leveled his .44 and shot him twice, then turned and ran. The guard dropped like a marionette with his strings cut. Nick did feel some remorse about this, but decided that it was just a matter of self-preservation. *Besides, I have someone else to look out for,* he thought as he turned to make sure that his cohort was keeping up. He needn’t have worried. She was right behind him and still gaining.
“Come on, old man. You wanna get left behind?” she yelled as she cleared another corridor door. Nick charged into a full-out sprint to close the distance. Hoping that she was remembering the map correctly, Nick sprinted along behind her until they reached an outside door. The door was at the top of a flight of stairs.
“I think we took a wrong turn. I think this is the roof.”
Just then, the lights went out, leaving them in near darkness. A siren began to wail somewhere in the distance.
“Somebody found your clothes. They’re going to come after us with infrared goggles and hunt us down like dogs. We won’t even be able to see them coming. We have to go forward. The motion sensors must have turned back on, along with the security cameras. We are soooo hosed.”
“Yea, well, then forward it is. Banzai!”
Angellina pushed the door open and stepped out into the reddening dawn. She quickly ducked back inside.
“There is a vicious looking helicopter out there. Tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”
Nick pushed past her and sneaked a quick peak. *We are well and truly hosed now,* he realized. Hovering directly in front of the exit was a large camouflaged helicopter with a multi-piece Perspex windshield, three turbine engines and a very impressive-looking cannon poking out of its nose.
“That is an Mi-24 Hind. I think it’s a 24W model. Soviet military. This is not good.”
“Yea, well looking down the barrel of that cannon made me realize I’m going to have to go home and change my shorts.”
Nick laughed; a short, stress charged bark.
“I think they won’t fire yet. They probably have orders not to chew up the building, and that quad mount 12.7 mike-mike on the chin will do a real nice job. Did you happen to see any missiles?”
“Well, would you like me to go outside with a notebook and take an inventory? I’ll ask the pilot what the standard anti-personnel rounds are for today.”
Nick didn’t feel any happier about their present situation, but he sure had to admire her spunk in the face of an almost certainly painful and bloody death. He could hear the chopper buzzing around like an angry insect, and waited for the noise level and rotor pitch to drop. That would mean they were facing away for a few seconds.
“When I tell you to run, run. I’m going to draw his fire.”
“Whaaat??! Are you nuts? That chain saw is going to rip you to pieces. I’ve seen a few James Bond movies too, you know.”
“I don’t think they will fire until fired upon. Here, take the cell phone. Press *1, REDIAL, then pray a lot. Captain Smith is supposed to answer the phone as soon as I call him. He said he would try to arrange some back-up in case things went sour,” Nick fervently hoped that ‘Snakeeyes’ had managed to come up with a decent plan. “You remember Bill Smith, right? At the police station?”
Angellina’s face clouded over for a second as she thought about the different officers she had briefly met, then recognition flashed.
“Ready?” He handed her the phone.
“Nick, I,…..” she stammered. She reached over and gave him a quick kiss.
“Yea, I know. Me too.”
“Go!” he yelled as he pushed open the door. Angellina sprinted toward a cluster of air ducts and ventilation equipment as Nick bolted behind an air conditioner evaporator tower.
Angellina reached the air ducts, rolled underneath a large piece of equipment, gave Nick a quick ‘thumbs-up’, then started frantically dialing his cellular telephone. Nick checked the clip in his .44, then took a deep breath and briefly wondered what being blown into little quivering chunks of meat by a 12.7mm cannon would feel like. *Very painful. For a very short time, I’m sure.* Knowing that the canopy Perspex would be thick and practically bullet proof, Nick decide to try for the helicopter’s most vulnerable point. The delicate turbine inlets. *And this monster happens to have three.* Nick rolled quickly out of cover, then stood and aimed in one fluid motion. He could see the look of surprise on the gunner’s face, through the forward multi-paned canopy. He emptied the clip as fast as the .44 would fire, the stock growing quite warm in his ungloved hands. He also noticed that his gunshots had been growing louder and louder, and realized that the overtaxed silencer had finally burned out. *Happy to see I haven’t lost the edge,* Nick thought, as most of his rounds found new homes in delicate parts of the engine’s front section. A few rounds struck the engine oil cooler, centered directly between and above the turbine air inlets. The chopper immediately commenced a slow climb as smoke poured from the injured oil cooler. At the same time, the chain gun went into operation. Nick managed to duck and roll back under the giant air conditioner housing just as 12.7mm shells started tearing up the rubberized roofing. A few hot chunks of lead and blown-off fragments of metal hit him in the cheek and left shoulder. He felt hot blood running down his face. *Hope it’s just a scratch.* Nick noticed his left arm seemed to be ignoring his brain's commands to move, however, and realized that he had more to contend with than just a scratch. He could hear the wounded wailing of the Hind’s turbines, and knew they would have to set down soon, or risk blowing the engines. He sure wouldn’t have wanted to try autorotating one of those puppies to a soft landing. *I’d ditch the missiles, though, if I could. Now, will he try to kill me, or save himself?* Nick wondered. He saw the chopper turn away and head for what he assumed was it’s landing pad, so he decided the pilot had opted for self-preservation.
*Good call, mate. Wonder if they have any more toys in that price range?*
Nick was wondering how long it would take the ground forces to come up their six, when he heard the heavy ‘whop-whop-whop’ of the rotors of another helicopter. *Come on, give me a bloody break, puhhleeeeeze?* By the basso sound of the blades, however, he immediately realized that this was not another Hind. A camouflaged and heavily armed Sikorsky CH-53 Super Stallion flashed overhead, flanked by two bad-boy AH-64 Apache gunships. The Apache’s commenced an attack run on the wounded Hind with their stubby wing mounted Hellfire air to surface missiles, and seconds later an enormous fireball and smoke cloud blanketed the landing field. Nick was buffeted by the concussion of the helicopter’s grand demise, and almost fell. The CH-53 settled directly above him, then switched on it’s outside intercom system.
“Attention, all combatant personnel. This facility is now under the control of the United States military. Any further acts of aggression will be considered an act of war, and dealt with accordingly. It is recommended that everyone come out with your hands up. We will be charitable, and give you a full thirty seconds.”
To punctuate the message, an F22 Raptor streaked by low over the airfield and dropped a string of parachute flares. Banking sharply, it commenced high station keeping directly over the airfield. Nick watched six ropes unwind from the CH-53, and knew he was about to have some company. Sliding down the ropes came six heavily armed Marines in full combat fatigues and gear. He decided it was safe to show himself now.
“Ho, there. Coming out!” he yelled, to avoid being shot, then rolled out from under the air conditioner.
“Stand and identify yourself!” The lead Marine answered, swinging his M-16 around to a ready stance and blind checking the safety.
“Lieutenant Colonel Nicholas Pantera, United States Air Force, retired, at your service,” Nick responded, then snapped him a sharp salute.
“Sir, I need to see some I.D., sir.”
“Ah, you see there, Marine, I have no pockets, hence no wallet, hence no I.D.”
“I see, sir. Come with me, please. Sorry about this, but we must be sure.”
“I understand completely, Marine. See to the lady while you are at it, will you?”
Angellina rolled out from behind her cover at that moment, and six M16’s snapped to the ready, then six pairs of male eyes snapped to attention. Angellina had sweated off most of the remaining black grease paint, so she looked almost presentable. The extended dip in warm salt water had been less than charitable, but nobody else seemed to mind, or notice. Angellina ran over to Nick, looked at the chief Marine questioningly, then buried herself in his arms, almost taking both of them over the edge of the parapet and off the roof. Nick turned back to the Marine after she had clumsily disengaged.
“I don’t believe I caught your name, Marine?”
“Lieutenant Pedro Marcos Rivera, United States Marine Corp, sir!” Pedro snapped him a tight salute, then relaxed slightly.
“I believe the lady will vouch for your identity, sir. Would you like to follow us in? And by the way, did you down that Hind yourself?”
“Yes, I did. With this.”
Nick pulled out his blued .44 automag, unscrewed the burned-out silencer, and handed it butt first to the Lieutenant. Pedro took it and looked it over closely.
“A fine weapon, sir. That was some nice shooting. Did you hit the engine? She appeared to be smoking when we arrived.”
“I think I got the oil cooler, too. Bit of good luck there, I’ll tell you.”
“If you say so, sir. This a .45?….no, a .44, right.”
“.44 automag. Finest handgun on the planet.”
“Can’t say I could argue much with you there, sir. I have a Ruger .480 at home. Shall we?……….Oh and by the way, Colonel; we should probably have a medic take a look at that arm.” Nick checked his arm, then gingerly probed the wound. A sharp piece of metal had penetrated his sweatshirt and tee shirt, then buried itself in the meaty part of his bicep. He winced as the shard moved under the pressure of his fingertip. *Must have been on too much of an adrenaline high to notice any pain before,* he figured. Blood had seeped into his sweatshirt, nearly invisible against the black cotton. Pedro motioned toward the rooftop door, where a second Marine waited with his M-16 pointed down the stairway. He stopped at the door, and put his hand over his ear, listening to a voice only he could hear. Satisfied with the situation report he had just received, Pedro proceeded down, with Nick following closely. As he made his way down the staircase, he felt Angellina slip her tiny hand into the palm of his. Staccato gunfire and the thud-thud of stun grenades could be heard faintly in the distance. Soon, all was quiet.
Later, back at his home, they sat unwinding after the most incredible day either of them could ever remember experiencing.
“How are you, now?” Nick asked quietly, while he stroked her lush auburn hair.
“Well, my headache is gone, but my ribs still hurt. You sure gave me quite a wallop, eh?” she asked playfully.
Nick looked away.
“I thought that you were…you know….oh, man. I thought you were really gone, and I couldn’t deal with it. I felt so helpless and frustrated. I just couldn’t go through that again. I guess I got a little over-zealous.”
“What do you mean, ‘again’?” she asked, looking up at him with her large, luminous blue eyes.
“I’ll have to tell you the whole thing. Sometime.”
“We seem to have plenty of time,” she responded.
So, hesitantly, Nick proceeded to tell her the entire story of ‘Junior’s’ loss, and about the recurring nightmares that he never managed to get over or past.
“He was burning. I saw flames in the cockpit, then……………...nothing. Just flames and pieces, dropping like aluminum rain.” he finished.
Angellina was softly crying when he stopped.
“That has to be the saddest story I have ever heard,” she said while wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Nick, oh Nick, you could not have done anything differently. It wasn’t your fault. Don’t continue to beat yourself like this. It isn’t right, or fair. You will never have peace with yourself, or let anyone else in, otherwise. I don’t want you to keep me outside, too.”
“You are absolutely right. I don’t want that either.”
He wished he felt as confident as he sounded. He knew it would take him time to make any progress against such a deeply embedded angst. He switched channels on his digital TV while she slept peacefully, curled up against his side.
The following morning, Nick had a quick de-brief with William Smith, in his police station office.
“…..so I think that just about covers what you found, right? You remember anything else you want me to add to the official report?”
“No, I think that’s about it. The eggheads find anything interesting?”
“They sure did. First of all, the lab te