The Seraphs Call - Chapter Twenty Five

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

June 17, 2049 – 1100 Hours - 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue,
Washington D.C.

Roger Janus stood alone before the door to the White House Situation Room, apprehensive to enter.  He had just received the preliminary report from Kovax in the field and the results were promising, but the President had wanted the status one hour ago and Janus was late.  He stepped to the door, knocked, and entered the room.

President Theodore Porter sat at the far end of the long conference table, eyeing the satellite images streaming across the screen.  Next to him sat Harlin Masters, Director of the National Security Agency, and Dr. Samuel Madison, National Security Director.  

Janus could see from the look on the President’s face the situation had developed into something beyond his control, and he knew Theodore Porter did not like to lose control of anything. 

Janus stepped forward, producing the report and placing it on the conference table, “Mr. President.  I have the sitrep from Longreach.  They have picked up the target and are closing in.  They expect to reach Colonel Rathborn within fifteen minutes.”

The President’s facial expression did not change, nor did he say a word as he pointed to the screen.  Roger turned to look and the images and saw the Longreach members converging on Rathborn’s position, but Rathborn was not alone.  There were four thermal signatures near the transponder position and another twenty closing from the west.  The presence of these others had not been reported by Kovax.  I’m going to fry his a*s, Janus thought, and turned to face the three figures at the far end of the table. 

Theodore Porter pressed the button beneath the conference table, lighting the room with an eerie glow from the dimmed fluorescent lights.  The expression on his face was one of pure anger and he screamed, “Janus, what the hell is going on here.  My Security Chief and NSA Director have advised me that we have more men in the field than we should.  What the hell have you done?”

Janus stammered as he tried to choke out a reply, “Mr. President, I didn’t know about this.  I received the report just a few minutes ago and came here as soon as I did.  What are those other thermals doing on the screen?”

Porter, now fuming, “Damnit, Janus, this is twice you have screwed up.  If you don’t know who they are, then how in hell do you expect me to know?  This was your operation, and now everything has gone to hell.”

Janus replied, “Mr. President.  Longreach has not engaged the target, but even considering the numbers, they will have no problem.  They are the best we have, able to take on ten times their numbers.”

Theodore Porter turned to Harlin Masters and spoke, “Dr. Masters, what is the current status of this operation?”  Janus watched in disbelief as the NSA Director spoke to the President while looking at him, “Mr. President, pardon my French, but this is a clusterfuck.  According to satellite imagery, we now have twenty-seven unfriendlies including the target.  I have been in direct communication with Longreach Team Leader and they spotted a U.S. Army Delta Force Helo leaving the scene.  They have also spotted a sizable paramilitary force in the vicinity closing on the target.”

“Thank you, Dr. Masters,” the President replied and turned his wrath towards Janus, “Roger, this situation has become complicated.  One target we can cover up, but how in the hell are we going to cover up a major firefight in a U.S. National Park.  Tell me, Roger.  How are you going to do that?”  Before Janus could respond, Theodore Porter shouted, “YOU are not going to do anything about this.  As of now, I have turned over control of this operation to Dr. Masters.  You are relieved of your duties as Mission Coordinator.  I am not going to fire you yet, and you still may prove valuable, so just sit down, shut your mouth, and watch.”

Janus couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  He had been project director for Longreach since its creation and had never resigned authority for anything to anyone.  Now, the President had stripped him of his authority and his dignity.  He pulled the closest leather back chair away from the table and sat, looking in the President’s direction for some measure of compensation, but not came.  The three men at the far end of the table began conversing in low tones, too low for Janus to hear.  He stared at the ceiling, hoping he would wake from the nightmare that had just happened, when Dr. Madison tapped him on the shoulder, “Dr. Janus, the President wishes for you to leave the room.  Since this is a matter of national security, we ask that you return to your lab.  We will contact you within any information on the Longreach team that we feel you will need.  Good Day, Dr. Janus.”  The Security Chief, not waiting for a response, returned to his seat at the other end of the table and all three men stared, waiting for Janus to leave before they resumed their conversation.  Janus stood and pushed in the chair, wanting to say something, but the thoughts stayed in his head, “Damn you, Theodore Porter.  You haven’t seen the last of me yet,” as he walked from the room, closing the door behind him.  “You have betrayed me for the last time.”

Dr. Harlin Master looked at the President, now embroiled in the events unfolding on the screen, and waited to speak.  Theodore Porter did not, “Harlin, now that we have that cleared up, how are you going to handle this little problem?” 

“Mr. President,” the astute man started, “we have two issues to deal with, one of which I have just been told before I arrived.  The first and chief eliminating Colonel Darryl Rathborn.  I have the utmost confidence in the team leader, Lt. Colonel Gregory Kovax, and I am sure the team will be able to handle the problem.  I have given them orders to terminate all subjects with extreme prejudice and extreme caution.  They have orders not to draw attention to themselves nor the mission.  We have two F-27s standing by fully armed, capable of laying down a ground strike, which we can credit to a training accident, should they be unable to complete their mission.

“Good,” the President nodded, “and what about the second issue.”

“I was getting to that, Sir,” Harlin answered, not paying attention to the sneer, which creased the President’s brow, “The second issue is the NSA Computer.  We have had a disruption in the computer at NSA Headquarters, but have it under control.”

“What do you mean a DISRUPTION,” Porter shouted.

“Mr. President.  Someone has managed to bypass our security protocols and gain access to certain classified systems, but we are in the process now of locking them out of the systems,”

Porter’s faced reddened as he shouted again, “Classified systems?  Are you telling me that someone has hacked the NSA computers and gained access to classified information?  Just how classified?”

The beads of sweat began to form on Harlin’s brow as he continued, “Uh, Mr. President.  The information which has been accessed is classified Top Secret/SCI and some EYES ONLY.”

“And what is this information?” The President, now more furious than before, leaned forward towards his NSA director, his face forming a sinister look.

“Mr. President.  It’s the Sephiroth Project.”

The color drained from Theodore Porter’s face as the extent of the breech struck him.  Someone had gained access to a project that only five people in the entire United States knew of, and if the data were released, it would spell the end of his Presidency.

“Harlin,” the President began in a calm voice, “You are to leave now, and stop this immediately.  To hell with Longreach, I’ll take care of them personally.  Catch Janus on your way out and tell him to return.  I still have some use for him after all.  You better lock this down, and if you screw this up…need I finish my sentence?”

Harlin Masters responded, “No, Mr. President.  We are already working on it and will have the problem resolved,” as he stood and left the room in haste, bound for NSA Headquarters. 

Roger Janus sat in the hallway, dumbfounded at the events, which had happened only minutes before, wondering if he career was over.  Minutes passed, the door from the conference room opened, and Harlin Masters exited, stopping in front of him, “Roger, the President would like to see you now.  Don’t make him wait.”  Harlin turned and began walking down the hall quickly as Roger watched, then scurried quickly in the opposite direction to the Situation Room door.  Slightly ajar, he pushed it open and was greeted with a smile from the President.

“Roger.  Come in and sit down.  Excuse my outburst earlier, but we have some business to take care of.  You are to handle the Longreach team, until mission completion.  It has been agreed that all targets are to be eliminated, at all costs.  Dr. Madison will fill you in on the details.”  The President stood from his chair, the other two men returning the courtesy and watched him leave the room.

Doctor Samuel Madison turned to Janus and smiled.  Janus knew the thin bald headed man infinitely well by type and personal experience.  “I am well aware of your problems with Kovax, and that is why I advised the President to grant the Lt. Colonel his request for complete command and control of team.”

“You what…!”  Janus imagined his hands closing around the other man' neck, squeezing until that smile left his face.

“You cannot squash all your enemies under your heel Dr. Janus,” the bald man held up his hand as if guessing Janus’ look.  “You will now see how much giving a well trained operative a longer leash can accomplish, something that I suppose they didn’t cover when you were training.”

Janus’ hands spasmed in rage but he took a deep breath before he replied in a low venomous tone.  “We will see how well you step through the President’s minefield Doctor.  I should be your last worry.”

 

June 17, 2049 – 1100 Hours Stone Mountain Georgia -  Mainframe Core

Gabriel opened the second file, and it pull up columns of experimental data.  Subject: Gabriel Michael Scott a.k.a. Gabriel Michael Demoir, Date of clone conception: January 23 2028;  Date of envitro engineering February 12, 2028; intra-uterine grafting of embryo March 23 2028 (maternal test subject Sarah Scott Demoir).  What is this?  They are can’t be referring to me.  Test results April 27 2028; embryo is viable and exceeding expected developmental parameters; stage one of experiment successful, subject is born Gabriel Michael Demoir to Jean Phillip and Sarah Scott Demoir, December 5 2028.  My birth date, everything matches.  Stage 2 Guardian launched December 12 2028: Purpose, to observe test subject Gabriel Michael Demoir, insure his continuing safety while experimentation continues, and to provide to develop his talents to their highest extent to measure final success of the stage 2 of the Sephiroth Project.

Gabriel could not breathe as he finished scanning the data.  His emotions said this could not be true, yet to his mind, every bizarre thing that had happened in his life began to make horrible sense.  He was a product of this government, had been controlled all his life by them, and now the experiment betrayed its creator and threatened to bring the entire project down around their heads.  Yet what connection did this have with Lucifer X?  What monster had they unleashed from Project Sephiroth, set to devour the entire Earth?  He had to find out.

So engrossed was Gabriel in the files, he did not see the hellhound program break through his data wall.  He heard the loud crackling almost too late, as the black program lunged at him through the file vault.  The jaws of the beast closed around his data image.  He could feel the surge run through his body as the hellhound traced his physical location, preparing to send that one final surge of energy through his neural network that would fry his brain. 

Gabriel worked furiously to hold the program at bay as he prepared to carry out the neural snapback, but every dead end, false trail, and ghost he erected to waylay the enemy, the hellhound relentlessly tore through in its single programmed objective to terminate the intruder.  He could feel the power feedback begin to grow in his neural net, as his cyber-consciousness began to derezz and the link termination booted. 

Gabriel cut the power to his datastream, and his vision went black.  In the physical confines of the mainframe core, his body was thrown from his chair, as his consciousness snapped back into his body the same moment the hellhound attacked.  Thrashes his seizures as his brain went into shock, tore the data jack from his head, but not before the hellhound could do its damage.  Gabriel’s body fell limp, the only movement the sporadic convulsions as the last of the electricity arching though his body grounded and dissipated into the metal grating of the room floor.

June 17, 2049 – 1100 Hours Stone Mountain Georgia, Security Center Level Five

“What the hell is going on?”  Alejandro slammed the keyboard.  “Hey Captain are the computer techs running their maintenance routines late this morning?  I was trying to do my reports and my access froze.”

Alejandro swiveled in his seat, to get his superior officer’s response, but Captain Jackson was not there.  He glanced around the room and saw that all the systems were shut down.  “S**t,” he yelled, “What the hell is going on here?”  He reached for the vidphone to call up the computer center, but the lines were dead.  He jumped from his seat and ran into the control room, the facility monitoring system showed a total power failure to all critical circuits; communication, computers, and power on all lower levels. 

Only one of two things could be happening: someone had breached the security of the facility, crippling the power as the first attack, or the disastrous power failure was occurring on its own impetus.  Either way SOP dictated the same response for both.  Flipping the panel on the Security Alert, one of three systems on the emergency power grid and independent of any other, he smashed his palm down on the big red button.  It sent a signal to the Klaxon bullhorns mounted on each level.  The digitized voice rang out, “This is a Level One Security Alert.  This is a Level One Security Alert. Security teams to your stations.  Security teams to your station.”  The loud alarm continued to ring out as Alejandro exited the main security station.  His appointed place of duty for security alerts; the main computer mainframe core found on Level 5.

The elevators were out of order.  No power was available to the circuits.  Alejandro sprinted down the hall to the stairwell opening on the first floor, slamming the door open as he leaped through hitting the fourth step down the landing.  His momentum carried him forward as he grabbed the rail and swung his body around, taking the steps  by threes, hitting each landing hard, grabbing the rail on each.  The many hours of drills had trained him for this moment.  Two flights of stairs separated each floor and he took each swiftly, reaching the door to level five in fewer than twenty seconds.

His job was to safeguard the computer mainframe core, and anyone working in it.  With no communication, he didn’t know the location of the security violation, and advanced with caution.  He pushed the door open slowly and glanced into the hallway, searching for any signs of movement.  Nothing there.  He stepped into the hallway and began the long trek down the one hundred yard corridor to the mainframe core vault.  With his hand on his holstered weapon, he walked slowly, keeping his body close to the wall.  Standard procedure for Close quarters battle.

He approached the intersection leading to the Genetics labs, and nearly ran into Dr. Shelby Holiday who was at a near run, rounding the corner, his face coming close before Alejandro shoved his hand out to keep them from colliding.  “Whoa there, Dr. Holiday.  Where are you going?  Didn’t you hear the security alert?”

“No I didn’t until I stepped out here.  That’s why I’m on my way to the core.  Something has gone wrong.  Every one of our systems has shut down.  I tried to get a hold of anyone, but communications are down.”

“I know, Doc.  I know.  That’s why I’m here.  You need to stay back until I can check out what’s happening.”

Holiday looked at the young Army Sergeant and shook his head, “No.  I can’t.  If there’s something wrong in there, then you’re going to need me to fix it.  It’s either me or Dr. Scott, and I fear something has happened to him.  We don’t have time to stand here and argue.”

Alejandro looked the Doctor, and nodded, “Ok, come on then, but stay behind me.  If it is what think is wrong, then you will need ME to fix it.”

Shelby nodded as he fell in behind the younger man, walking quietly to the small alcove at the end of the hallway where the huge vault door to the computer mainframe core was located.

Alejandro lowered his palm towards the ground, Shelby nearly running into him as they neared the vault door.  Alejandro turned and looked at Shelby, mouthing the words, “wait here” and stepped forward to the edge.  The metal on metal grating sound startled Alejandro as he peeked around the corner.  He saw the huge metal vault door, normally closed, now wide open and Dr. Gabriel Scott lying prone on the floor in the darkened room.  The sound he heard was familiar, but he couldn’t place it.  I know that sound, Damn it.  What the hell is it?

His pulse began to race as he drew his pistol from the holster, the sweat now beading on his brow.  As quietly as he could, he pulled the slide back on the weapon, and slowly released it, chambering a round.  He caught movement out of the corner of his right eye, and saw Shelby moving slowly toward him.  His hand shot out toward the Doctor and he whispered the word, “STOP!” 

He glanced around the corner, the grating sound now louder, and then it dawned on him.  He knew that sound.  It was a silencer being screwed into the barrel of a pistol.  He stepped from the corner, and watched as the pistol came from the shadows to his left inside the room, held by an unknown assailant, pointing it directly at Dr. Scott. 

 

June 17, 2049 – 1108 Hours Beacon’s Ridge – Blue Ridge Mountains

James Regardi jumped, as the comatose body of his commander crashed to the ground by his feet.  Jimenez and Mel brought their weapons to bear at the unknown behind him as Regardi whirled around.  An iron force slammed Regardi’s SAW from his hands before he could raise it and he was knocked six feet directly into the field of fire of the other soldiers.  He scrambled back from his assailant, trying to give Jimenez and Mel a clear shot, but he was stopped dead when he saw who stepped from the forest’s edge. 

Rathborn strode calmly into the clearing, oblivious to Jimenez and Mel still crouched and aiming their weapons level with his chest.   “I am taking command of this unit while your commander is incapacitated.”

“What did you do to him…?”  Mel crouched near Ruetger; her weapon still aimed at Rathborn, and checked the unconscious man’s vitals.

“I saved his life from the enemy units beyond the hill…he will recover.”  Rathborn cried out and almost fell to his knees as his nanites began to surge in his skull.  He heard the indistinct whispering voice in his mind.  “What do you want?” He yelled.

Regardi moved to help him up, but Rathborn raised his hand for the Lieutenant to halt, as Angel’s voice replied clearly and distinctly in the Colonel’s mind.  “It is not my voice Rathborn, others like me are near.”

“What are they doing here?”

“My guess is they are in a Longreach team, other soldiers imbued deliberately with my nanites to make them more efficient killing machines.  They have come to recover me and kill you.”  Angel’s voice sounded frightened.  “I am giving you the data I have on them.”

Detailed descriptions and schematics of the entire Longreach Project surged through Rathborn’s mind.  It painted a grimly impossible picture in a tactical sense for the Colonel.  “Get you weapons and gear,” He turned to the Special Forces team, “I will carry Ruetger.  We need to get out of open area now.” 

Rathborn strode to Ruetger, picked his friend up with one hand and slung him over his shoulder.  Regardi, Jimenez and Mel, still shocked by what was happening failed to react until the first shot from one of the Longreach snipers range through the clearing.  The .50 caliber round slammed into Jimenez’s head, blowing apart his skull as it tossed him to side with the force of impact.

Rathborn reached out into the depths of his mind, sorting through the facts provided him by Angel.  The data formed into definable patterns as he sifted for the key facts on how to eliminate the Longreach team.  He was searching for their weaknesses and soon found them.  The camo field generators were what allowed them to approach their targets without being spotted, but one minor flaw could give them away, direct sunlight into area of effect.  This would disrupt the field enough to give away their position. 

Higher up on Beacon Ridge Lt Bucher crouched with his seven men watching the resulting firefight.  He keyed the earpiece on his comm.  “Captain Nodachi, come in, Colonel Rathborn appears to be leading the others we thought were hostiles, and they are being attacked by forces unknown on open ground.  Request permission to give them fire support, so the Colonel can evac his men.”

“Permission granted, but stay in cover until we arrive, second and third units are in route to your location.”  Captain Nodachi’s voice came over the comm. 

“You heard him men.  I went a field of suppressing fire on the opposite tree line until the Colonel reaches safety.”  Lieutenant Bucher sighted his AR-16 and with his men opened fire.

Rathborn looked into the morning sky and then down the ridge towards the incoming fire.  He quickly calculated the sun’s angle and extracted the small survival mirror from this sleeve pocket.  Bringing the mirror to bear on the sun, he raised his weapon and pointed towards the far tree line.  He followed trace of the sunbeam reflected from the mirror as it traversed the treetops, and then to base of the forests, aligning the sights of the HK-95 Long Range Assault Rifle with the beam. 

As he swept the tree line, the pinpoint beam prismed, sending a rainbow of light in all directions, the sunlight reflecting off the generated camouflage field of one the Longreach team member.  An evil smile crossed his lips as he saw the shape move back in a vain attempt to avoid the beam of light that had blinded it.  Rathborn sighted through the scope, and slowly squeezed the trigger, breathing out slowly.  The large rifle bucked in his hand, the muzzle brake absorbing most of the recoil as the large 7.62 mm round was propelled at over eleven hundred feet per second at its victim.  He continued to watch through the scope as the round impacted with the man shape at the base of the hill, knocking it back nearly seven feet.

Rathborn continued looking at the shape and heard the death cry in his head as the Angel nanites screamed out at the loss of their host.  The form derezzed into a man dressed in black, the huge hole in his chest revealing where the round had penetrated.

One down, many more to go.  Rathborn thought.  He had no idea his thoughts were heard by the nanites in his system, and he felt surge of adrenaline as his glands began to pump the natural stimulant into his body.  He repeated the same motions, sighting the sun, sighting the tree line and bringing the beam and his sight together.  He swept slowly through the trees, but he knew they were aware of his tactics, the rounds now striking closer to him as they sought to suppress the death he rained on one of their members already. 

He sighted movement again.  Without hesitation, he fired, sending the projectile of death speeding to its destination.  The smiled appeared again, as the round slammed into the camouflaged figure, lifting it and sending it reeling against a tree.  The figure derezzed into another black clothed man, the left side of his head now a cavernous abyss where the round had exploded on impact, sending bone and brain matter in all directions.  Another one down for Rathborn.

The two Delta force operatives continued to lay down fire at their unseen assailants, unable to zero in on any specific targets.  Mel thought she saw movement and fired, switching the SAW to fully automatic, sending a wall of .223 caliber rounds into the tree line.  Her reprieve was brief before the large caliber round slammed into his right shoulder, flipping her over.  She looked down at the wound, now slipping rapidly into shock and saw that nothing existed from the shoulder down.  The shot had removed her right arm, the major artery now spurting blood in all directions.  Regardi glanced at his teammate and screamed, “Oh s**t, Colonel.  Mel’s been hit,” and jumped, applying full pressure to the wound to try to stop the bleeding.  It wasn’t enough.  He watched as Mel slipped into a coma as the last of her blood spilled from the wound, the damage too great, the tissue too destroyed to stem the flow. 

Regardi felt a hand on his shoulder and turned.  Rathborn was staring at him, the silvered eyes piercing his, “She’s gone, Son.  There’s nothing we can do now except kill these b******s,” and then he smiled, turning back to the tree line, searching for more targets on which to deliver his wrath.

With a renewed vigor, the anger now reaching up from within him, Regardi grabbed the Drum fed Grenade launcher and began laying a barrage of 40mm grenades on now what he knew only as the enemy.  He walked the explosions down the hill, crisscrossing the patterns of explosions the 40 mm grenades delivered, blowing apart the treetops and trunks as they made contact, sending burning phosphorus, shrapnel and concussive forces into the area of the Longreach team.

“This is not doing any good, the rest of the targets are out of range.  We have to get back into the tree line, Lieutenant.  Now!”  Rathborn pulled Regardi towards cover.

Up on Beacon Hill, Bucher swore.  “Those f****n idiots are going to get themselves trapped.”  He turned to his men, “Hodges, Clarence, lets hotfoot it, we gotta get closer to pull Rathborn out.  Keep cover on us.”  He told the rest of his men.

The two soldiers followed Bucher as he sprinted down the forested hill.  The enemy in the opposite tree line had already begun to adjust their fire, targeting both the pair struggling to reach the cover and Bucher’s team high on the ridge.  Hodges fell before they reached the forest’s edge, taking a round to his leg. 

Bucher screamed at the top of his lungs to the two men racing towards them.  “Move it, my infrared is showing enemy units on their way in.”

Rathborn reached the tree line first, rounds exploding around him.  Regardi still firing to cover the Colonel’s retreat, fell as a round grazed his leg.  Clarence rushed forward and dragged the wounded Regardi the remaining feet to cover.  Bucher helped his man pull Regardi behind cover just as a fragment struck him in the cheek.

Bucher turned on Rathborn, not even pausing to attempt to stop the blood streaming from the flesh wound on his face.  “What the hell is your problem Colonel, I had my men laying suppressing fire to cover your evac, that extra dead soldier lying on out there is your stupidity in not taking the hint to retreat.”

“And who are you to question my strategy?  I just killed two members of a team of killing machines unlike any that your men have ever faced.”  Rathborn stared coldly at Bucher.

Bucher for the first time noticed the Colonel’s silver pupil less eyes, and gulped in a breath before replying.  “I am a Lieutenant in a paramilitary unit sent by your brother, Damien DeMoir, to rescue you.”

Rathborn grabbed Bucher by the arm, his cold grip like a vice on the Lieutenant’s flesh.  “You get my brother on Comms, and tell him that I have taken command.  It’s the only way any of us can hope to make it out of here alive.”

            Across the valley, Osiris watched the figures of the men retreating up the hill.  He turned to Anubis who waited behind him in the shadows of the forest’s canopy.  “Take your team and cut them off from the main force.  Rathborn must not escape.”

            “What about them exploiting the CFG’s weakness?  Should we change to standard camouflage only?”  Anubis asked.

            “No you will need the CFG’s to make it across that clearing and that little trick will not help when you ambush them and open fire point blank.  Once they realize you are on them, it will be too late.”  Osiris responded, and switched to the satellite overlay again to gage his enemies distance from their main force.  “You have a two minute window to get into position.”

            Anubis nodded, and with his five team members disappeared.

 

June 17, 2049 – 1110 Hours Stone Mountain Georgia - Mainframe Core

Alejandro’s hands shook as he reached slowly around the corner and flipped the emergency lights for the core vault.  The eerie incandescent light flooded the chamber from the twin lamps.  The Sergeant nearly dropped his gun in shock.  Standing over Gabriel’s unconscious body Captain Abraham Jackson held a silenced pistol, leveled directly at Gabriel’s head. 

The light startled the Captain long enough for Alejandro to take aim.  “Drop the weapon Captain Jackson NOW!”

Jackson kept his pistol leveled on Gabriel and smiled.  “You can’t shoot me Alejandro.  Why don’t you holster your gun and wait outside while I finish in here.”

Alejandro edged forward, closing the distance.  He fired a warning shot at Jackson’s foot, the ricochet echoing in the chamber and embedding itself in one of the terminals.  “I said drop the gun Captain.”

Jackson slowly lowered his weapon to the ground and stepped over Gabriel’s unconscious form.  He held his hands in the air and moved aside as Shelby rushed into the computer vault to Gabriel’s side.

“I thought I told you to wait in the hallway while I cleared the room.”  Alejandro snapped at Shelby.

“Dr. Scott needs my immediate attention.”  Shelby said dismissively as he crouched down to check on Gabriel.

Shelby’s distraction was all the opening Jackson needed, he had edged slowly closer to Alejandro as the Sergeant’s gaze was averted and took this moment to smash the pistol from the young Latino’s hands.  Alejandro let out a startled yelp but Jackson’s fist followed slamming into Alejandro’s face sending the young Sergeant reeling from the room.  The captain reached down to pick up Alejandro’s pistol, turned to Gabriel and Shelby and opened fire.

Shelby had been alerted by Alejandro’s yell and leaped up blocking Jackson’s line of fire.  Three slugs slammed into Dr. Holiday’s torso, two entering his abdomen, the third striking his heart.

Jackson swore.  “F****n b*****d, you had to change sides again didn’t you.” And re-aimed at Gabriel’s head.

Shelby collapsed on the ground clutching the aortic flood that flowed through his fingers, pooling bright red on the grated floor.  “We were only supposed to stop him.”  He gasped and with his last of his strength, he pulled himself bodily over Gabriel to shield his fallen friend, and died.

Jackson sneered, “Always the heroic fool.  Scott will be much less a complication if he’s dead.”  He stepped through the door, pulled Holiday’s corpse off Gabriel’s body and pointed the pistol directly at his victim’s head.

The shot that resounded through the vault was not from Jackson’s pistol.  The captain looked down in surprise at the smoking hole that had appeared in his chest just before he collapsed. 

Alejandro struggled to regain he footing, his vision still blurred as he stumbled through the door.  He paused over Jackson’s now lifeless body, “Good thing you always taught us to have a backup, mother f****r!” And spat on his Captain’s dead face, “Cabron!”

Alejandro stepped over to Shelby’s body, knelt, and checked his pulse.  None.  The man was dead.  He stood, walked over to Gabriel’s limp body and began dragging it into the hall.  He stopped short as he saw the gun in Sergeant Johnson’s hand, leveled at him, her silhouette blocking his exit.  He dropped Gabriel’s leg, lurched forward, and rammed both of his hands into Johnson’s chest, catching her by surprise, the gun barrel now deflected toward the ceiling as she fired, the round exploding the acoustic tile overhead.  She lost her balance and tumbled against the far wall of the passageway.  As she slumped against the wall, trying to regain her footing, Alejandro backpedaled into the vault, slamming the massive door behind him as two more rounds ricochet into the room. He turned to the unconscious Doctor at his feet, “What the f**k, Doc?  What the hell is going on here?” 

June 17, 2049 – 1115 Hours - Beacon’s Ridge – Blue Ridge Mountains

The fog began to clear in Desdin’s vision as his unconsciousness faded from black to light.  He shook the cobwebs clear, the pain in leg now gone, as he sat up, the sound of gunfire echoing in his ears. He felt the burning in his skin, as if someone was running a lit match along its surface.  He thrashed about, rubbing his body on the ground, as the nanites bored through his flesh, trying to stop the burning, but it continued. 

Rathborn turned back and saw Desdin rolling back and forth on the ground as the alien presence coursed through his friend’s body.  He stepped and grabbed Desdin by the collar, bringing his face close and yelled, “Get it together, Mister.  You’ll be alright.  Don’t fight it or it’ll hurt more,” watching as his friends eyes changed from blue to the same silver of his own. 

“It hurts, Colonel.  I’m on fire inside.  What the hell is happening to me?”

“It’s the nanites, they are inside you.  I put them there to save you.  Now let it go,” as he hoisted the young Lieutenant Colonel to his feet.

“What did you do to me?” Desdin screamed as he pushed Rathborn back with all his strength.  The nanites had not yet completed their task, leaving Desdin weak and Rathborn did not budge, hold the tired man in his hands. 

“You’ll be all right, Desdin.  Trust me.  They saved our asses.  Now let it go,” and he slapped Desdin in the face, breaking the man’s frantic hysteria, forcing Desdin to face the reality that was he had faced only a few short hours before.

Desdin straightened, exhausted from his injury and the nanites traversing through his system, and stood, slumped, trying to keep his balance, “Yes, Sir.

Rathborn looked at his tired friend, “Desdin.  You have to get back to Stone Mountain.  Gabriel’s in trouble.  I don’t know how I know, but I know.  You have to go now.  Do you understand me?”

Though his senses were marred by the nanites manipulating his central nervous system, his years of training, the instinct to follow orders so well ingrained that he didn’t hesitate and pulled the radio from his belt, “Watcher, this is Birddog.  Immediate extraction. I repeat immediate extraction.”  Ten Seconds passed and the reply came over his headset, “Birddog, this watcher, Roger.  Enroute to your location.  Have you on infrared.  Colonel, there’s several hostiles out there.  I’ll need some cover fire for the LZ.”  He watched as Rathborn, Regardi and eight others he didn’t recognize were busily firing to the trees below.  He raised himself to a crouching position and yelled above the din, “Colonel, the chopper’s inbound.  We’ve got a hot LZ here, Sir.  We need more cover fire.” 

Rathborn turned to Desdin, his finger still working the trigger, “You tell that Pilot to get his Pansy a*s in here.  I want him to light up this whole area with EMP and Rocket fire.  That should keep their heads down for a few minutes.”

Desdin responded with a nod and spoke into his microphone, “Watcher, this is Birddog.  Come in from 090 and light of the valley with EMP.  You need to cool down the LZ yourself with those Mavericks you’re carrying.”

“Roger, Birddog.  Tell your people to keep their heads down,”

Desdin watched as the Delta Force Helo screamed in from the east.  The plumes of smoke lanced from the rocket pods, as the Maverick Air to Ground missiles were released and streaked toward the forest floor down the hill from their position.  As the missiles raked the valley floor, sending up bright eruptions of fiery death, Svenson keyed the Electromagnetic Pulse Generator towards the enemies’ positions, climbed and banked back to the east to avoid the shock wave. 

The invisible pulse of pure energy rippled through the valley, defeating any electronic circuit or devices it met with, momentarily causing the Longreach team members to scream out in pain as their neural interfaces were disrupted.  Anubis quickly gained control of his men, “This will pass.  Get in cover now,” as he watched the CFGs failed and their positions were revealed to the enemy up the hill.

Rathborn wasted no time, sighting in on the first figure he saw.  The three round burst from this distance caught the man in the head, torso and groin, slamming his body to the ground.  Rathborn searched for more, but those remaining managed to slip back into the cover of the trees before he could acquire another target. 

He turned to Desdin, as the helo ladder dropped over their positions, “That EM Pulse will only give you a few seconds, Reutger.  Now get the hell out of here, before their systems come back online.”  Rathborn watched as his friend grabbed the bottom rung, and was hoisted into the air; the Special Operations Helo, engaging the turbojet as he was pulled inside and the door closed. 

Seconds passed before the firing from the tree line began again, the hot lead pounding their position, the 40 mm grenades from the enemy now walking their way up the hillside to their position.  Rathborn glanced at the men around him, watching them fall one by one, as the near perfect sniper fire coming from two separate positions, brought death into his ranks.  He glanced back, watching the helo depart in the distance,

At least you will be safe, Gabriel.

 

June 17, 2049 – 1120 Hours Stone Mountain Georgia, Stairwell between the 4th and 5th levels.

The security response team raced down the stair, almost knocking over the old maintenance man that was crouched on the landing over the open power panel.  The last man stopped, and yelled over the din of the alarm at the old man.  “Didn’t you hear the alarm, there are intruders in the facility, all personnel are supposed to be in a secure area now!”

The old man pointed at his ear and held up his finger for the guard to wait for a moment.  He stood and reached into the cavernous front pocket on his jumpsuit.  The guard died, a hole appearing in throat, his mouth open to cry out as the old man pulled himself straight from his fake stoop and pulled the silenced mini Uzi from his pocket.  The other guards had not even been aware that their comrade had fallen before the maintenance man brought his weapon to bare and opened fire on full auto.  He mowed them down before they could react; emptying the entire extended sixty round clip into their bodies even after they had stopped moving.

The fourth NSA operative pulled the wig from his head and tossed it onto the pile of corpses before him, ejected the spent clip and turned back to the power panel.  He picked up the small pair of pliers that he left there and snipped quickly through a bundle of multicolor wires.  The alarm went silent, and the man stepped over first corpse as he climbed down the stair.  He looked at the corpse’s wide eyes and smiled.  “I know there are intruders moron, I’m one of them,” and he exited through the door to the fifth level.

 

June 17, 2049 – 1200 Hours Beacon’s Ridge – Blue Ridge Mountains

Anubis crouched on the crest of the hill and watched the eighteen men coming in from the North to aid Rathborn.  They would never make it.  Rathborn had been ingenious enough to briefly disrupt their systems with the EMP blast from the Black Hawk Helicopter, but for some reason sent the chopper away with only one man rescued.  Now the blue team’s systems had rebooted and their CFGs reengaged.  They blended into the surrounding landscape as they crept up on Captain Nodachi and his men.  Anubis signaled for his team to surround the enemies approach, and Longreach scattered into the trees surrounding the path, their enemy oblivious to their movement.

Saul Iverson brought up the rear of Nodachi’s group keeping his boss Damien Demoir behind him.  He did not like the silence of the woods.  Something did not smell right.  He lagged slightly behind the rest of the party his weapon clenched at ready as he scanned the trees.  The death came with the noise of the first rounds slamming into Captain Nodachi’s men, and Iverson pushed Damien off the trail.  “Get the hell out of here boss.  Your only chance is to get to your brother’s position.  I’ll cover your retreat.”  Iverson turned and took a bead towards the enemies’ fire as Damien ran off through the woods.  He was only able to hit one target, before a series of rounds struck him in the chest, knocking him into a tree.  With grim determination, Iverson held onto life and kept firing his weapon towards the enemy.  He did not die until the hammer of his pistol clicked on an empty chamber. 

The final rounds from Anubis’ team tore through Nodachi’s men and it was only seconds before the firefight was over.  Anubis stepped out into the trail and surveyed the bodies strewn up and down the path.  There was no movement.  He signaled his team, and set off in pursuit of Damien, who was already nearing their target’s position.  There would be no prisoners this day.

 

June 17, 2049 – 1200 Hours Beacon’s Ridge – Blue Ridge Mountains

Rathborn turned and quickly scanned his ranks.  He and only four others remained, all of them wounded.  With their chameleon abilities, the Longreach team has managed to eliminate nearly all of them, the only reason for the remaining four’s survival, the lead which they poured in all directions from their position.  They were running low on ammo, and he knew they didn’t have long before they were overrun.  As he fired, he noticed a shape dart to his far left, and stopped.  He had seen the figure clearly.  It was either one of the Longreach team or one of Damien’s men.  He watched as the figure closed on their position, holding up his arms as he approached, and immediately recognized him.  It was Damien. 

Rathborn turned to the men firing, yelling, “Cover me” above the staccato of the gunfire, and ran up the hill to where his brother stood.

The round from Anubis rifle slammed Damien forward into Rathborn’s arms as he approached, the force of the impact sending both men tumbling back down the hill.  The hail of bullets from Anubis’ team decimated Darryl’s remaining men, leaving Rathborn alone, crouched over the unconscious Damien, his weapon at the ready. 

Anubis stepped from the tree line.  Confident in his kill, he had turned off his chameleon field generator, leveled his weapon in Rathborn’s direction and fired.  The heavy round slammed into Rathborn, sending him toppling over his brother, the pain shooting through his chest as the special round exploded only inches from his heart.  He lay gasping for breath as the nanites rushed to the site of the wound, frantically trying to repair the damage, his vision clouded by the pain which threatened to overtake his consciousness.  Through his dim vision, he watched as the Longreach team approached, each member derezzing before his eyes. 

As Rathborn drifted into unconsciousness, he watched as the giant man standing above him lowered the large bore rifle level with his head.  The words he heard faded with the blackness, “Nice to see you again, Preacher.”