The Shift: Book II of the Wildfire Saga (17 page)

"
Clear!
” a Marine shouted over the net from the other side of the hangar.

"All units, cease-fire in hangar three!" Alston called out.
 
He didn’t want to risk blue on blue fire now.

As the last echo of gunfire dissipated into the air, Alston heard the rhythmic
thupp-thupp-thupp-thupp
of helicopters.
 
He saw the repelling ropes drop down through the hole in the ceiling as the first of Zuka’s team began to descend from the hangar’s roof.

"Zuka, hurry it up!"

"
Hey, I got a visual on the Russian helos…
” said Zuka.

"
They’re Hinds, all right.
 
Ugly bitches,
” said Deuce.
 
His deep voice made the speaker in Alston's helmet rattle.
 
"
Circling to the north.
 
I see—
"
 

A tremendous ball of fire erupted from the fuel depot.
 
Screams began to fill Alston’s headset.
 
Marines were dying.
 
Another explosion shook the ground and illuminated the entire airport. Alston turned to see a fireball at the fuel depot take the roof off of the largest hangar.
 
He could clearly see scores of bodies on the runway.

The Hinds circled the airport like vultures, pelting the Americans with incoming gunfire.
 
Without anti-aircraft munitions, Alston could do nothing but watch the slaughter and hope his men forced their way indoors.

One of the Hinds roared overhead, the downdraft from its rotors causing him to cover his face as dirt and debris flew like shrapnel.
 
Tracers lanced out from the gunship and tore up chunks of tarmac, stitching a trail straight across the runway and up the side of the terminal.

The attack helos suddenly veered away and stopped their brutal assault.
 
The searchlights they used to spot targets continued to jump around the airport, but they had ceased their bombardment.

“That’s it—the Source is in the terminal…” Alston muttered.
 


The Hinds are backing off!
” reported Gunny Morin.
 

Keep on those foot mobiles and move in close!
 
They don’t want to hit their own people!”
 

An explosion just outside the entrance to the hangar next door threw Alston onto his back amid the screams of the wounded and dying.
 
A Marine dragged Alston into the corner of the building while he caught his breath.
 
Gunny Morin rushed up out of the depths of the flaming hangar and knelt by the coughing Ranger.

"You all right, sir?" he asked, brushing debris off Alston’s chest.
 
“That was some danger close, right there.”

“Don’t worry about me, Gunny,” growled Alston between coughs.
 
He struggled to his feet and brushed the dirt and blood off his face.
 
“Look,” he said, gesturing at one of the orbiting Russian helicopters.
 
“The Hinds are backing off because they don’t want to kill the Source—he’s got to be in that terminal.
 
Get everyone you can find—we’ve got to take that building!”

“Oorah,” grunted Gunny Morin.
 
He keyed his mic: “Marines!
 
We are taking that terminal!
 
All units, advance—I want suppressing fire from the flanks.
 
This is it ladies!”

C
HAPTER
9

Boston, Massachusetts.

C
OOPER
PEERED
AROUND
THE
corner of the trash-filled parking garage and examined the abandoned cars in the street for signs of movement.
 
He could see nothing out of the ordinary.
 
Well, nothing that passed for ordinary lately, at least: abandoned cars parked on what should be busy streets in downtown Boston, trash and debris piled on sidewalks, and not a single person to be found.
 

Sunrise was less than an hour away on a crisp Saturday morning in New England.
 
It was early November. They were near Harvard—there should've been students out and about, or at least a few cars.
 
Nothing looked normal.
 
Hastily made, handwritten posters plastered on buildings all around them provided an explanation.
 

Get a mask!
 
Get screened!

And the more disturbing, officially printed version:
 

Avoid crowds!
 
Stay home, stay inside, stay alive.

Every brownstone they passed appeared to have notices taped to the windows begging for food or help.
 
Phone numbers, cut into little strips of paper for people to tear off, dangled from most of them.
 
There were very few that had been taken by good Samaritans.
 

It was like the Great Pandemic all over again.
 
Cooper glanced down at the MP5SD in his hands and adjusted his grip.
 
Well it was
almost
the same.
 
He’d been just another college kid, rudely introduced to the big, bad world like everyone else ten years ago.
 
It had been the Great Pandemic—technically, the Aftermath—that had prompted him to join the Navy in the first place.

He examined the nondescript building across the street.
 
According to Boatner, this was a top-secret research lab.
 
Cooper looked up and down the deserted street.
 
Not a single car.
 
A few bits of newspaper stirred and chased each other on a little current of breeze, but otherwise nothing moved in the pre-dawn stillness.
 

"All clear on the front," he announced.

Cooper waited with Boatner at the corner of a public parking garage, partially hidden by a thick wall of unkept boxwoods.
 
The doctor shifted next to him and Cooper reached out a hand to steady him without taking his eyes off of the building.

"
The north and the rear are clear
," grumbled Swede's deep voice.

"
Southside clear
," reported Charlie.

Cooper tore his eyes away from the green-tinted night vision image of the building for a moment and whispered, "Okay, Doc, there's no activity at the building.
 
When I say ‘three’ we’re going to stand up and run across the street.
 
You got your key card ready?"

"How did you know we needed a key card?
 
The building has been designed to look completely normal—when the power went out, I thought…"

"It was designed to look completely normal to the average Joe, Doc.
 
That ain't me."
 
Cooper tapped the sleek HAHO helmet he wore.
 

"But—" began the virologist.

"All the windows are concentrated on the upper floors,” Cooper pointed at the building, “where it's less likely that someone will be able to force access.”
 
He lowered his hand to indicate the ground floor. “You've got dense bushes all around the base of the building and the flat rooftop has plenty of spots to hide all kinds of comms and ELINT gear."

“ELINT?” asked Boatner after a moment of silence.

“Electronic intelligence equipment.
 
You know—spy shit.”
 
Cooper turned his head to look at the scientist and smiled at the civilian’s discomfort.
 
"To me this place screams top-secret government facility."

"It's not the
entire
facility,” Boatner said quickly.
 
“My lab is only in the basement.
 
The rest of the building belongs to Boston's Child Protective Services."

Cooper chuckled.
 
"Nice cover."
 
He shifted his legs underneath him and prepared to stand.
 
He put a hard edge on his voice: "All right, Doc, this is it.
 
We gotta get you across the street and inside that building as quick as possible.
 
You ready?"

"Coop!
 
Got a vehicle approaching from the north, not slowing down,"
warned Sparky.

Cooper gripped Boatner’s shoulder and drove him to the ground.
 
As they dropped to the leaf-covered mulch behind the boxwood shrubs, a pair of headlights swung around the far corner as a vehicle approached the entrance to their building.

"Stay still, don't move," Cooper whispered.
 
He readied his rifle and took aim through the shrub at the passenger door.


Mercedes
,” said Sparky’s voice.
 

Another German patrol
.”
 

The armored truck slowed as it rolled past, its spotlight sweeping both sides of the street.
 
Cooper waited until the truck had turned the corner and disappeared before he relaxed his grip on Boatner’s shoulder.

"All right, we’re moving," Cooper said as he helped Boatner to his feet again.
 
"Come on, let's do this before anybody else shows up.”
 
He got to his feet and dragged Boatner across the street as quickly as possible.
 
Being out in the open—even in the predawn darkness—made him feel naked and vulnerable.
 
He rushed Boatner up to the front door and took a knee to scan the street while the virologist placed his badge against the card reader and opened the main door.
 
Cooper stood and made sure he was first to enter.
 

He stepped into the darkened hallway, his rifle at his shoulder.
 
His helmet’s night vision made the hallway look bright as day.
 
Every door was closed along its length.
 
He could see only a few dusty footprints leading down to the far end of the hallway and back.
 

Cooper pulled Boatner inside.
 
“Get down under that window, sir.”
 
He took one step inside and keyed his throat mic.
 
"Okay boys we’re in, front door’s open.
 
Let's move."

"
On my way
," said Charlie.

"
Moving
," replied Mike.

"
You guys get inside, I’ll check the street one more time
,” said Swede.

Cooper zoomed in on the far end of the hallway as he waited for his team to arrive.
 
He switched modes from night vision to thermal and back again and was a little startled to see an IR beam at the far end of the corridor next to what looked like a janitor’s closet.
 
He turned to glance at Boatner, crouched under the narrow window inset in the wall next to the door.

"So where's the entrance to your secret lair?"

The virologist shot a disapproving look at Cooper.
 
"It's a
lab
, not a lair.
 
Down at the end of the hall, on the right is a janitor’s closet.
 
That’s the entrance.”

Charlie emerged out of the darkness and startled Boatner as he entered the building.
 
"
Beaver’s right behind me
," he said as he slipped past Cooper like a wraith and took up position further down the hallway.

"
Does the security system tell you if anyone's been in the building since you were here last?"
asked Charlie.

“I—I don’t know.”
   


I hope not
,” said Mike as he stepped into the entrance.
 
"
I’d hate to have to kill anybody else today
."
 
He disappeared down the hallway.

"How we look, Swede?" asked Cooper.

"All clear.
 
Moving."

Cooper turned back to Boatner.
 
"All right Doc, take Charlie and Mike down to your lab.
 
I'll wait here for Swede and make sure the building is secure."

He watched the virologist move down the hallway, muttering to himself as he collected Mike and Charlie on the way to the lab entrance.
 
Cooper switched screens on his HUD and watched through Charlie's helmet-cam as Boatner held his badge to the janitor’s closet sign.
 
As Cooper was about to ask what the hell he was doing, he was surprised to see the door open with a quiet hiss.
 
The soft glow of LED lights illuminated the interior of the small supply closet.


Can you leave your badge outside the door in case the others need it?

asked Charlie.

Down the street, the bright headlights of another car appeared like stars in Cooper's eyes.
 
"Swede!
 
We got company—double-time it!"
 
He brought his rifle up and trained it on the vehicle down the street.
 
Another German patrol.

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