Authors: Boyd Morrison
In the second level hallway, Grant balanced on Locke and Turner's shoulders to reach. Sparks flew when he spliced the wires together, and Locke heard a pop from another camera down the hall.
Grant jumped down. "We should be good to go. That'll teach them for giving the construction contract to someone without my amazing skills."
The klaxon shut off. A few doors opened. Civilians lured out by the voices. They must be on a residential level.
"Everyone stay in your rooms," Locke yelled, and the doors slammed shut.
He led them to the stairway at the west end of the hallway. Turner followed without a word. Since Locke knew the basic layout better than anyone else, Turner had deferred the point position to him.
Only fifteen minutes were left, and they all felt the pressure to move quickly, but they couldn't risk attacking head-on a fortified position they had little intel about. Anything the guard doped up on truth serum might be able to tell them would be worth the time.
They went cautiously into the stairwell and saw no one. They were halfway down when the door from the third level opened. Turner had the angle and fired two quick bursts, taking down two guards before they could react. The bodies kept the door from closing, and Locke could see another two guards retreat down the hallway.
This must have been the ambush team that Grant assumed would be waiting for them. Now Locke had the advantage of numbers. He ran into the hall firing shots at the running guards, who were going for the east stairwell. Just like Locke wanted.
He could see one of the guards halt before opening the door as if the man were listening to someone in his earpiece. But the other soldier barreled past him and launched himself at the door. The first guard tried to hold him back, but the door was already swinging open and hit the striker of the claymore that Locke had reset there.
The blast threw them backwards, and the guards came to rest face down, their bodies a mess of blood and dust.
"Which room?" Locke asked Dilara.
She led them to a room around the corner. Grant covered them while Locke opened the door. They found the doctor and the drugged guard still on the floor.
Grant and Turner picked up the guard and put him in the chair, clasping the restraints over his wrists.
"What's your name?" Locke asked the guard while Turner wrapped the doctor's wrists and ankles with plastic cuffs.
The guard's eyes were completely dilated, unable to fix on who was speaking to him.
"Connelly." He voice was slurred, like he'd chugged a twelve-pack.
"How many guards are there, Connelly?"
"Guards?"
"Your men. How many?"
"Thirty-two total security forces."
"Looks like this stuff is working," Grant said.
"How many inside?" Locke asked.
Connelly paused, confused. The math was too much for him. Locke had to make it less complicated.
"How many men are usually posted outside, Connelly?"
"Standard operations is 12."
With the four in the hangar that meant 16 outside when the barriers came down. Cutter started with 16 inside, and now less than that. If Locke was lucky, Cutter had fewer than 10 men left. With that few, it would be risky for him to try another assault and lose more men.
Cutter would pull his men back to the control room and make a stand there. He would make it a battle of attrition, but Locke had to worry about the time. Ten minutes until the bomb dropped.
"What about the civilians, Connelly?" Locke asked. "Are they armed?"
Connelly shook his head lazily. "Garrett doesn't want them to have weapons. Only us."
That would feed into Garrett's plan for dominating the group once he had wiped out everyone outside Oasis. He wanted a bunch of sheep he could command in his New World. Cutter wouldn't be getting help from anyone else, just his security forces.
"Where is the bio lab?'
"Fifth level," Connelly said.
"How do we get in?"
"Can't. Palm scanner."
"What about the control room? Where is it?"
"Seventh level."
"Palm scanner?"
Connelly nodded. "If it isn't locked manually from the inside."
"Which they would probably do," Turner said.
"Connelly, if you were attacking the control room, how would you do it?"
"East stairwell. Direct shot at the door. RPG." Rocket propelled grenade.
"Two problems with that," Grant said. "We don't have an RPG, and it might blow the whole room apart. We need it functional to open those barriers."
Locke shook Connelly. "How else? How do we get in?"
"Can't. Have to wait until they come out."
Get them to come out. That was it. And how do you get them to come out? Panic.
"Connelly," Locke said, "does your palm print give you access to the bio lab?"
Connelly nodded.
Locke turned to Grant. "Help me pick him up. We're taking him with us."
They had their way in.
On the fifth level landing of the west stairwell, Turner and Grant watched up and down the stairs while Locke pressed Connelly's hand against the palm scanner leading into the bio lab. The screen changed into a keypad and said, "Enter pass code."
"What's the pass code?" Locke asked.
"78924," Connelly responded robotically.
Locke entered the number. The door buzzed, and the bolt disengaged. Now that the klaxon had been shut off, the buzz sounded like an air horn in the empty stairwell.
Locke opened the door and shoved Connelly through it. No gunfire. Locke went in and saw another white hallway. Turner, Grant, and Dilara followed him in, their weapons held high.
"Where are they?" Locke said as he wrapped plastic ties around Connelly's wrists. He didn't need the guard any more. "Where's Garrett?"
"Observation chamber."
"Where's that?"
"Right at the elevator. Halfway down."
"What are they doing there?"
"Preparing the dispersion cases. Burning everything else."
"Dispersion cases?" Locke stood and faced the others. "Must be like the one I found on the Genesis Dawn. That's why my father wanted the bomber as backup."
"So what's the plan?" Turner said.
"Not much time left," Locke said. His watch showed 9:53. Seven minutes. "We need to go in full throttle."
Leaving Connelly on the floor, Locke jogged down to the elevator and peeked around the corner toward the north stairwell. Empty. Garrett must assume that they wouldn't be able to get into the fifth level without blowing a door open, which would ruin any chance of being taken by surprise. Of course, Garrett didn't know they had the helpful Connelly with them.
Locke waved at the others. They crept down the hall toward the observation room door. They were a quarter of the way down the hall when a door opened at the other end 70 feet away. A woman in a biohazard suit walked out and stopped in her tracks when she saw the four of them.
She shrieked and ran back into the room. That was all it took.
A guard with a weapon stepped out of the observation room, and Turner took him down with a three-shot burst. Locke ran down the hall and slid on his back past the door on the slick tile. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of Garrett and Svetlana Petrova going out a door on the opposite side of the room as he sailed past. A hail of bullets dotted the wall above Locke. He took a shot in that direction and thought he hit someone.
Turner leapt over the fallen guard and into the room. He took a hit in the shoulder and fell to the ground, but it was enough of a distraction for Grant, who followed him in and shot the last guard. Locke went in next.
A man in a white lab coat was crouched under a control panel in terror. Through a large window, Locke could see three others in biohazard suits inside a steel-lined chamber. On the chamber floor were three cases identical to the one Locke had taken from Garrett's stateroom to the CDC. The men inside the chamber stopped what they were doing and watched the gun battle inside the observation room.
Locke noted all of this in a second, including that Garrett wasn't there. Locke plunged through the opposite door and rolled onto his knees, ready to dodge gunfire. He saw Petrova throw open the stairwell door and Garrett turned and looked straight at him. Even from this far away, Locke could see the hate on Garrett's face. Locke saw that Garrett wasn't carrying a case.
Locke raised his gun to fire, but Petrova pulled Garrett into the stairwell with her, and he missed the shot. Locke went back into the observation room.
Grant was pressing his hand to Turner's left shoulder.
"How is he?" Locke asked.
"I'll be fine," Turner said with a grimace. "We're running out of time. Let's finish this."
Locke turned to the man at the control panel.
"Tell those people to get out now. Don't bring anything out and lock it up."
The men in the biohazard suits complied quickly, locking the chamber.
"Is that all of it?" Locke said, pointing his weapon at the cowering operator, who nodded furiously.
"That's all the Arkon we have left."
"Arkon? That's the prion agent?"
"Yes."
"And you can burn it all in there?"
Another nod.
"Then fire it up."
"Wait a minute, Locke," Turner said. "We're supposed to secure it, not destroy it."
"Sorry, Captain. Nobody's getting their hands on this stuff. Especially my father." To the operator, Locke said, "Do it."
Turner made a move to stop him, but Grant put his hand on the Captain's gun.
"Uh uh," Grant said. "I didn't go through all this just to let the Army get hold of a new weapon."
"Captain Turner," Locke said, "you didn't see what Arkon can do. It reduced an entire planeload of people to bones in a matter of hours. I heard the tape of the pilot. That kind of death must have been excruciating. Do you have family?"
"A wife and two sons," Turner said.
"Garrett was planning to use the Arkon to kill them and everyone else you've ever known. I'll sleep a lot better knowing we've destroyed it. Won't you?"
Turner paused, then said, "My official order to you is to secure that bio-agent. In my current condition, it might be difficult for me to stop you if you disobey my order." He gave Locke a weak smile.
"Well," Grant said, "that takes care of the technicalities."
"Now," Locke said to the operator, who pressed a red button marked, "Sterilize."
Flames shot up inside the chamber. Locke watched the temperature gauge. Within seconds, the chamber was over 1000 degrees. The cylinders of Arkon in the open cases began to burst open, spewing their contents into the fire. Anything not metal melted and burned.
When the gauge hit 1500 degrees, Locke breathed a sigh of relief. The threat was gone, and the military was not going to have a new bioweapon to play with. Now they could focus on opening the barriers and saving their own butts. Locke looked at his watch.
"Five minutes left," he said. "Time for us to implement phase two. Dilara, can you handle this guy?" Locke pointed at the chamber operator.
Even though a round was already chambered, she racked the bolt on the submachine gun and ejected a bullet for effect, which obviously frightened the operator even further. "I'm ready." Her voice sounded much clearer.
Locke gave her Grant's radio. They'd have only one chance, and the timing would have to be perfect.
"And you, Captain? No hard feelings about burning up the Arkon?"
"You still talking about that? Let's finish this thing and get those barriers open. I don't want to die any more than you do."
"Are you sure you're up to it?"
"I've still got one good arm. I can do my part."
"Good. We're only going to get one shot at this. We need them to be convinced they're going to be infected by the Arkon. Captain Turner, when you're in place, blow the seventh level door. Dilara, that will be your signal to press this button."
Locke pointed to a button next to the one marked "Sterilize." Inside a flip up lid that was in place to prevent accidental activation was a black- and yellow-striped button labeled with the bold letters, "Containment breach."
The B-52 from Fairchild AFB turned to begin its final pass over the Olympic peninsula. Even with the 30,000-pound MOP in its bomb bay, the immense bomber made the turn easily. It would take exactly 4 minutes and 39 seconds to reach the drop point.
Major Tom Williams listened to the command come in from General Locke.
"Drillbit Flight, you are go for release."
"Acknowledged, Drillbit Command. Go for release at 2100 hours."
"Drillbit Flight, be prepared to receive the abort code at any point before that."
"Roger that." On the internal comm, he said, "OK, boys, keep sharp. Let's get this thing right on target." Williams was the only officer on board who knew the true nature of the mission. He understood the importance of containing a deadly bioweapon, but he sure didn't want to drop a bunker buster on American soil. He had his orders, but he kept hoping for that abort transmission to come in.
The bomb bay doors opened.
* * *
Locke and Grant were in position at the seventh level landing in the west stairwell. Turner was stationed in the east stairwell at the sixth level landing. Dilara was still in the bio lab observation room.
Locke hadn't run into more guards, so Cutter had to be holed up with his men in the control room.
"Everybody ready?" Locke said. Even though their scrambled radio transmissions couldn't reach outside, the radios worked within the confines of the Oasis facility.
"In position," Turner said.
"I'm ready," Dilara said.
Locke looked at his watch. Four minutes left. The only objective was to communicate the abort code to the bomber.
"Okay, Turner. Execute."
Turner's reply came over the radio. "Fire in the hole!"
The explosion was more than 150 feet away, on the other side of the facility, but it rattled the complex like it happened in the next room. Turner had set up the rest of the explosives from Locke's bag of tricks just outside the east stairwell door leading into the seventh level. The dust and smoke should provide an effective barrier to anyone thinking of going out that way.