The Red Phoenix 12: Strength Comes in Numbers (30 page)

They gathered around him, placing their hands on his shoulders. Chris was still in shock at the sight of ten clones of Kirk and one of Kerry as comfort poured over him.

“This must be a lot for you to take in, Chris, but I did it because I know you’ve missed your family terribly,” Kerry stated. “And now all that was once lost in your life can be restored.”

Chris’ eyes watered, emotionally overwhelmed.

“I hope this isn’t too distressing for you?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” Chris replied. “It’s just that I—”

“What?” Kerry asked.

“Never thought in a million years something like this would ever happen to me,” Chris replied, wiping a tear from his cheek.

“What is the plan for departure from this facility, Chris?” asked Kirk One.

Chris didn’t answer, still taken in with the clones.

“Shall we wait here until someone contacts us from the surface?” asked Kirk Seven.

“Huh? Uh, no. We’re going to see if we can get out of here through the transit system,” Chris answered. “But first we need to stop off on level minus sixty-two.”

“What’s there?” asked Kerry.

“Some additional weapons for back up,” Chris replied, moving to the cabinet near his desk, stuffing his BDU pockets with another box of ammo. “We don’t how far the ammo we have will take us. I just hope the
experimental
weapons are still there.”

“I believe I heard Dr. Sanders state that there are several exits for the transit system, Chris,” said Kirk Eight.

“It’s going to be dangerous up there. I’m not sure how stable the under-facility is after the explosion but at least the transit system is a way to the outside,” said Chris.

The rest of the Kirk clones picked up their weapons, locked and loaded them.

“We’re with you all the way, Chris,” said Kirk Four.

“Affirmative,” Kirk Nine added.

“There is only one thing I ask of you, my sons,” said Chris, reloading another magazine into his Mp5 machine gun.

“What’s that, sir?” asked Kirk Ten.

“Shoot Dr. Alex Siddoway on sight,” Chris answered sternly. “He’s a threat to all of us.”

“Yes sir!” they responded in unison.

“Let’s move out!” Chris ordered, leading them out of the lab.

***

On the surface, near the enormous pile of destroyed buildings and piles of rubble that buried the main lobby, there was a stirring in the tall jagged, thorny, green-misty trees that encircled the entire area for miles.

A scorpion came out of the soil then crawled onto a mutated tree stump, creeping its way to a half-eaten candy bar that lay on the dirt. A land lizard moved speedily from the opposite side of the wrapper, reaching the candy bar before the scorpion with its swift movement. The scorpion drew closer but stopped to observe the lizard snack on the treat in the wrapper as it fluttered its tongue on it, and crawled on the wrapper.  The scorpion remained still, pinching its pinchers, staring at the lizard, wanting some of the chocolate bar that the lizard indulged itself in as the green mist fell upon them both. The scorpion and lizard began to grow larger.

The scorpion’s color turned from light brown to dark as it grew four round heads in the front with squinty eyes, gaping jaws and sharp teeth and added three smaller sets of deadly chela pinchers to its front. Its tail curled over its front pinchers over fifteen-feet high as its stinger, at the tip of its tail, turned into a ball of spikes.

The lizard’s length extended to twenty feet long as razor-sharp horns grew out from under its chin, head and its back while its color changed from light green to dark gray and black. Its tiny feet transformed into eight-fingered, scaly claws. Its eyes transformed from an all-black tiny dot to fierce, red sclera with specs of other colors around the pupils.

The scorpion’s four mouths hissed at the lizard, striking at it with its heavy stinger of spikes. The lizard dodged out of the way as the ball of spikes landed harshly in the soil. The lizard leaped to an elevated mound of vines, logs and rock then roared at the scorpion that swung its stinger at it again, missing it. The lizard jumped on top of the scorpion, clawing at its hellacious pinchers, biting at its four heads, but the scorpion clenched the lizard’s leg with its pinchers, threw it off him, causing it to land on its back.  The lizard flipped to its feet and roared at its deadly opponent again but the scorpion struck the lizard on the top of its head with its heavy ball of spikes, killing it.

The scorpion pulled its sharp blades from the lizard, retrieved the candy bar with one of its sets of pinchers then crawled over the vines, thorny branches and plants of the mutated forest.

CHAPTER NINE
THE STRIKE TEAMS

Ted Gibbs, Secretary of Defense, walked swiftly down a hallway in the White House towards the Oval Office, carrying a briefcase. His upper lip was hidden under his mustache well as he appeared to be on urgent business.

Anita Romero, the president’s secretary, sat at a desk, typing.

“Hello Anita,” said Ted, walking past her, heading for the door.

“The president is expecting you,” Anita replied, pushing a button that opened the door for him.

The
real
President Greenfield sat at his desk, watching Ted enter the room. Ken Pearce, the Vice President and Barry White, the Chief of Staff, were also in the room.

“Mr. President, sir,” said Ted.

“There’s the man of the hour,” said White.

“Ted? What the hell is going on in Arizona?” asked Greenfield, turning down a flat screen TV that was mounted on the wall, broadcasting a CNN report about the incident.

“A bit of a disaster, Mr. President,” he answered anxiously, taking a laptop out of his briefcase, setting it up on Greenfield’s desk.

“Do explain,” said Greenfield.

“Sir, some kind of bomb detonated, we think near the main lobby of the Red Phoenix facility that has left the place in a pile of rubble,” Ken replied.

“Who’s responsible for that?” asked Greenfield.

“We believe these two men,” Gibbs answered, bringing up photo images of Siddoway and Michaels, turning his laptop around for him to see.

“Who are these guys?” asked Greenfield.

“Dr. Alex Frederick Siddoway, a well-known weapons designer, and his lab assistant, Christopher James Michaels, a former Special Forces operative,” Gibbs replied. “It’s unknown if they survived the blast, however we think there may be survivors trapped under the wreckage in the lower levels.”

“So, we’re looking at a rescue mission?” asked Greenfield.

“Mmm… It’s not that easy, sir,” Gibbs answered, standing behind the president, bringing up additional images on the laptop. “These photos you see here?”

“What about them?” asked Greenfield.

“They were taken from a National Guard helicopter,” Gibbs replied. “The Guard, for the time being, has taken over the enormous crime scene out there and has set up a perimeter, since the explosion.”

“What’s this large, blurry, tan-colored thing standing on top of the pile of rubble, I’m seeing?” asked Greenfield.

“We believe that’s one of the survivors, sir,” Gibbs answered.

“Survivors?” asked Greenfield in disgust. “This
thing
in the photo is human?”

“When this bomb exploded, the shockwaves annihilated everything in its path for miles, including wiping out the county sheriff and his men, along with medical and media personnel and their vehicles,” Gibbs explained. “What you see there is what we think is a mutated human from the bomb’s fallout.”

“I can barely tell what this thing is by looking at the photo,” said Greenfield.

“We think it was one of the employees at the building,” said Gibbs.

“This thing has got to be at least seven-feet tall, Gibbs,” said Greenfield. “Do we know anything else about it?”

“That’s the interesting part,” Gibbs answered.

“Go on,” said Greenfield.

“Here are some photos taken by N.A.S.A. about five years ago,” said Gibbs, taking out several photos from a manila folder, setting them on Greenfield’s desk.

Greenfield looked over them, his face perplexed as he compared them to the photos taken at the Red Phoenix.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” asked Gibbs. “The creature at N.A.S.A. looks very close to the blurry photo taken in Arizona.”

“Yes it does,” Greenfield answered, looking through more photos. “So, what did N.A.S.A. do with the creature after they killed it?”

“They kept it frozen for about two years after the incident but since the
specimen
was decomposing, they decided to incinerate the remains,” Gibbs responded.

“Damn N.A.S.A,” Greenfield said in an angry voice, looking more closely at the photos. “Just like them to pull a stunt like this and keep it secret.”

“Any other questions about the photos, Mr. President?” asked Gibbs.

“Are the thick, dark trees surrounding the Red Phoenix the same as what I’m seeing in the N.A.S.A. lab?” asked Greenfield.

“That is our conclusion,” Gibbs replied. “However, the dark forest-like area encircles the Red Phoenix for about ten miles in every direction, sir. It all grew within a couple of hours.”

“How on Earth could that happen? How did all that form so quickly?” asked Greenfield, astonished.

“We think this bomb that went off released toxic vapors that caused a transformation inside the facility as well as outside, thus mutating the survivors and everything living in the surrounding environment,” Gibbs answered. “Our source tells us that Siddoway and Michaels were working closely on some weapons together. We think this bomb was one of them.”

“They built a nuclear weapon at the facility and no one noticed?” asked Greenfield in disbelief.

“We don’t think the bomb was
nuclear,
according to the NEST team that was dispatched but, apparently, there was a fall out between Sam Wickenburg, the director of the facility, and Siddoway before he fired him for copyright infringement and computer theft. Siddoway’s first assistant, Scott Warnick, was even found dead in his apartment just before the whole incident occurred.”

“Michaels wasn’t involved?” asked Barry.

“Michaels was transferred to another department while Siddoway was waiting for charges to be filed against him,” Gibbs replied. “We believe Siddoway returned with the bomb as a disgruntled employee to even the score.”

“How did Siddoway manage to get back into the Red Phoenix?” asked Greenfield. “Was it not a top security facility?”

“We suppose that Michaels let him back in but this is where it gets interesting,” Gibbs stated, adjusting his glasses. “Siddoway is a suspect for the disappearances of Dennis Mueller, a rival weapons designer who threatened to sue him for the copyright infringement, along with Dennis’ executives.”

“So, Siddoway killed Mueller?” asked Barry.

“An arrest warrant for homicide was issued for Siddoway’s arrest due to gunshots heard at Mueller’s home the night he disappeared and witnesses observing a vehicle speeding away from Mueller’s home with a license plate that was registered to Siddoway,” Gibbs explained.

“Siddoway went into hiding then,” said Ken.

“I’m going to get to that chapter in a minute,” Gibbs answered.

“What in God’s name is going on here?” asked Greenfield, looking at the photos of the dead Dunn creature on the corridor floor.

“What I can say is that the incident at N.A.S.A. claimed the life of Captain Tim Aldridge, a group of reputable scientists and several security officers,” said Gibbs. “Aldridge had recently returned to Earth from an expedition to the moon.”

“I remember watching that on TV,” said Greenfield. “They found something up there. It was a…”

“Crashed alien star craft,” Gibbs said, placing down the photos taken on the moon by Aldridge’s crew.

“So, what happened? Were Aldridge and his crew infected by something up there?” asked Greenfield, glancing through the photos from the moon.

“No, they weren’t infected,” Gibbs answered. “They brought something back with them. At least Aldridge did.”

“What was it?” asked Barry.

“Here is where the intel is limited but it gets very creepy,” Gibbs responded.

“Do continue,” stated Greenfield.

“My guys located Lieutenant Phillip Howard, next in command to Tim Aldridge, and we interviewed him,” said Gibbs.

“What did he have to say?” asked Ken.

“Howard described his last encounter with Aldridge as
violent
as Aldridge attacked him with something,” said Gibbs.

“What did he attack him with?” asked Greenfield.

“I quote,” Gibbs responded, pulling out an FBI witness statement, “
As the argument escalated with Aldridge, I attempted to take a suitcase from him that contained something that I believe he found on the moon. In doing so, I was struck with multi-colored lightning bolts that threw me across the bay near where the shuttle was parked
.
I was powerless as all my strength had left me. Aldridge was uncaring and indicated the next time I crossed him, he wouldn’t be so nice.
”

“It sounds like Aldridge brought back a box of lightning with him and sought out his own path to fame and fortune,” said Greenfield.

“So, what’s the
very creepy
part?” asked Barry.

“These were taken by a few witnesses who used their video cams on their phones in Tucson when FBI agents went to take Siddoway into custody,” stated Gibbs, bringing up his video files on his laptop.

They watched Siddoway hurl pink, green and purple lightning streaks at the FBI agents as he ran out of the motel room, rushing to his car.

“Dear God,” said Greenfield, appalled at the video as agents were being thrown everywhere and put down with electrifying bolts. “Look at him.”

“Jeez, the damn Greeks would think he was Zeus,” said Barry, watching.

“How many agents were killed during all this?” asked Greenfield, tightening his lips, sounding bitter.

“At least six, several others were severely injured,” Gibbs answered.

“Oh, good grief,” said Greenfield, standing, putting his hands in his pockets, continuing to watch the footage. “How is Siddoway doing all that? What’s his connection to Aldridge?” asked Greenfield.

“That’s just it, we don’t know, sir,” said Gibbs. “We have no idea how he came into possession of this power but we do know he most likely used it to cause the explosion in Arizona.”

“All right, I’ve seen enough,” said Greenfield, picking up the photo of the blurry, mutated creature and Dunn creature before sitting down.

Gibbs stopped the video and sat down with his laptop.

“So, it’s our assumption that these things, whatever the hell they are, are running around the lower levels of the Red Phoenix, which is now a pile of rubble,” said Greenfield, showing Gibbs the photos.

“Meanwhile, Siddoway, if he’s alive, is throwing his lightning from outer space at anyone he pleases,” added Barry.

“What a freaking mess,” said Ken.

“Now that I told you how it gets better, this is where I tell you how it gets worse,” stated Ted.

“Go on, Secretary,” said Greenfield, rubbing his forehead.

“There is a nuclear arsenal being stored on level minus seventy-nine inside the facility,” Gibbs responded.

Greenfield turned and looked at him, stunned.