Anvil (16 page)

“Hear
that?”  He said softly.

Gonzales
moved to stand next to him, also turning his head to find the best angle to try
and hear what the Lieutenant was talking about.  Both men listened
carefully for several moments before the Master Chief shook his head.

“All I hear
is pounding, LT.”

“Thought I
heard a voice,” Sam said, finally shaking his head and following Gonzales into
the stairwell.

The
breaching charge cleanly blasted the lock free of the door.  The two SEALs
quickly came out of the stairs and stepped up to the opening.  Sam noted
the door was very thick, mounted on six heavy hinges and two additional pivot
support arms.  A half-inch layer of lead was sandwiched between two layers
of solid wood.

Beyond was a
broad hall with half a dozen doors.  Each was a lab, labeled A through
F.  A and B had thick, leaded glass windows adjacent to their door which
allowed observation from the hall.  As they moved through the opening,
Gonzales glanced to his right and held up a hand to stop.

Two large,
open front cabinets held a variety of equipment.  From a rod mounted to
the wall, a dozen full body radiation suits were on hangars.  Sam thumbed
the switch for his light, quickly scanning all of the gear.  He stopped
the light moving, shining it on a two-inch diameter, bright red button set into
a stainless steel plate and sticking out from the wall.

“It’s an
emergency response station,” he said.

Shifting
position, he peered at the screen on a piece of equipment attached to the wall
beneath the alarm button.  It was dark, coming to life when he touched it. 
The display showed several different values, another string of number scrolling
across the bottom.  Looking closer, Sam recognized it was a sophisticated
Geiger Counter, used to measure the radiation levels in the lab.

“How
bad?”  Gonzales asked, recognizing the device.

“Not
bad.  Inside,” Sam said, gesturing at the lead lined door.  “And we’ve
got everything we need right here.”

He opened an
empty duffel brought just for this purpose.  Folding the radiation suits,
he stuffed them inside while Gonzales kept watch.  A large bottle of
potassium iodide pills went in as well as a smaller Geiger Counter.

“Think we
should put these on before we go back outside?”  Gonzales asked.

Sam paused,
considering the idea.  He didn’t like the thought of wandering around in a
radioactive environment with no protection, but the suits would restrict their
movement and interfere with their hearing and vision.  And they wouldn’t
protect them from all the nasty Alpha, Beta and Gamma rays that could be
bouncing around.  All they would do is prevent radioactive dust, debris,
and rain from coming in contact with their skin, or being inhaled as they
breathed.

“Lets see
what the levels are when we go out,” he said, jamming more equipment into the bag
before closing it up.

Gonzales
helped him lift and position it on his back.  Once it was in place, Sam
tightened the straps, bounced it a couple of times to get a more comfortable
fit and tightened again.  With what they came for, the two SEALs moved
back into the vestibule and headed for the stairwell.

The pounding
from the far side of the other door had stopped and it took Sam a moment to
realize the significance of the absence of the noise.  Pausing, he signed
for Gonzales to stay quiet before walking over to the far side of the
room.  Carefully, he leaned in and pressed his ear against the smooth,
cool surface.  He didn’t hear anything, but if this door also had a thick,
lead core he didn’t think he would.

He reached
for the heavy lever that controlled the lock, Gonzales giving him a look that
said he thought the LT was crazy.  Sam hadn’t fought a lot of infected,
but he’d been around them enough to learn that they didn’t give up.  If
there was an infected inside, why had it stopped pounding on the door?

Grasping the
handle, he jiggled it to make noise that would be clearly audible on the other
side.  A few moments passed in near perfect silence, then the steel lever
moved slightly as it was pushed from the inside.  Sam jerked his hand away
like he’d received an electric shock, but kept his ear pressed against the
wood.  Very faintly he could hear a female voice crying out for help.

Jessica breathed
a sigh of relief when the third layer of encryption fell.  She had been
working non-stop for several hours in her effort to break in to the Thor System
and now had only a final security measure to defeat.  But it would be the
most difficult as she had already determined it contained a rolling algorithm
that would re-encrypt itself with a new key every six hours.

Opening a
new window on her terminal, she typed in a command.  Leaning forward to
view the lines of text that scrolled across the screen, she nodded when it told
her what she already suspected.  A new key would be generated in
seventy-three minutes. 

There wasn’t
enough time to crack the system before the security refreshed itself and she
would have to start over from the beginning.  Even a six-hour window was
tight, and she wasn’t at all sure she would be able to complete her work in
that timeframe.  But it was a much greater possibility than only
seventy-three minutes. 

Looking
around she noted the Marine guard assigned to watch her.  He was standing
ramrod straight next to the exit, hands clasped behind his back as he kept his
eyes focused on her.  The man hadn’t moved in hours.  Hadn’t shifted
his feet, rolled his shoulder or even scratched his nose.  She knew
because she had been keeping half an eye on his reflection in one of her
monitors that wasn’t in use.

Jessica
wanted a cigarette and a change of scenery.  She was reaching for her
keyboard to lock her terminal when her cell phone beeped.  The cellular
networks in Hawaii were still up and running, to some degree.  There
wasn’t a civilian internet or email any longer, and Facebook, Instagram and
Twitter were things of the past.

But local
calls that could be routed by the switching equipment located on the islands
would still go through.  So would text messages.  Picking up her
phone, Jessica was surprised to see it was a message from Mark asking if she
could take a break.

A wave of
heat flushed through her when she saw the words on the small screen.  Why
wasn’t he in custody?  He should be sitting in an interrogation room with
the Commander from NIS and a criminal investigator from NCIS.  They should
be grilling him about passing secrets to the Russians.  But he was obviously
running around, free as a bird, without a care in the world.

She almost
dropped the phone when it beeped again.  This time it was a photo with no
message, but she understood his intent.  It was a pic he had snapped of
the two of them engaged in sex.  Jessica was on top as he lay on his back
and captured the expression of ecstasy on her face while they coupled.

Anger surged
through her belly, spreading into her limbs until they quivered.  The
son-of-a-bitch!  The motherfucker had used her, and was still
trying.  Thought all he had to do was throw a few good fucks into her and
she’d come running whenever he called.  Tell him secrets.

With a
profound sense of despair, Jessica acknowledged that was exactly what had
happened.  She had avoided romantic entanglements for a long time,
focusing on her budding career with the Navy.  She’d had plans to put in
her twenty years, building a skill set and reputation that would land her a
high paying job in the private sector when she retired in her late 30s. 

But Mark and
his Russian masters had smashed that dream.  There were no civilian jobs
any longer.  No civilian world she cared to be a part of.  For that
matter, if they survived, there wasn’t even retirement to look forward
to.  Just more of the struggle to live that was now the new normal.

Anger
returned, and with it came cold calculation.  She knew that she was on
borrowed time.  The only reason she had any freedom was there was no one
else with the skills to complete the job she was doing.  What would happen
when she finished?  Interrogation?  Jail, or worse?  Did they
really think she was a traitor?  And in this new world, did anyone have
the time or resources to keep someone branded a traitor alive?

Jessica was
angry, but she was also a patriot.  The Navy was a means to an end, but
she had enlisted because she genuinely felt a calling to serve her
country.  Maybe she wasn’t one of the warriors out there shooting a rifle
or flying a combat mission, but her job was just as vital to the security of
the United States, perhaps even more so.

She might be
going down for having let her carnal desires cloud her judgment, but she wasn’t
going down alone.  If the Navy wasn’t going to do anything about Mark, she
was.  Securing her station, she stood and walked to Lieutenant Hunt’s
console.

“Yes, Petty
Officer?” 

He didn’t
bother to look up.  Jessica did her best to ignore the cold demeanor of
the normally warm and open man.

“Sir, the
system is going to regenerate keys in seventy minutes.  There’s no point
in me starting until then, so I’d like to take a break.  Get some chow and
a shower.”

Hunt looked
up, staring at her for several uncomfortable moments.  Finally, he looked
across the room and motioned the Marine guard over to where he sat.

“Sir?”

“Corporal,
escort the Petty Officer to her personal quarters so she can shower, then the
mess hall.  After that, straight back here,” Hunt ordered.

“Yes, sir,”
the Marine snapped.

He remained
at attention for a moment, then stepped back and gestured for Jessica to lead
the way.  With a sigh, she grabbed her purse and phone as she walked by
her station, the Marine close on her heels.  As they rode up in the
elevator, she texted a reply to Mark, telling him to meet her in the mess hall
in half an hour.

Walking into
the fresh air outside the building, Jessica almost faltered in her steps when
she realized they hadn’t taken her phone.  That didn’t make sense. 
One of the first things they should have done was to cut off her communications
with anyone.  But she still had it and had even used it in full view of
her guard, who had not so much as blinked to see it in her hands.

Was it an
oversight?  No, the Navy was many things but they weren’t
incompetent.  Were they hoping she’d use it to contact someone and give herself
away?  What was the term?  Stalking horse.  Was that it?

Not seeing
how she could use it to her advantage, Jessica walked quickly across the base
towards the large building where she shared a room with another female Petty
Officer.  She smoked a cigarette as she walked, thinking about what she
was going to do.

Jessica
showered quickly, her long hair tucked under a shower cap.  Body clean,
she dressed in a fresh uniform and checked her look in the mirror. 
Satisfied that she was squared away, she grabbed her purse and opened the door
to find the Marine Corporal waiting patiently.

“How do you
do that?”  She asked as they began the walk to the mess hall.

“Do what?”

“Just stand
there, not moving.  Not talking.  Waiting patiently.  I couldn’t
do that.”

“I’m a
Marine,” he said, feeling that was all the explanation necessary.

Jessica
shook her head, not understanding and not in the mood to try.  It was a
long walk to the mess hall, and she moved slowly.  Stopping, she lit a
cigarette, suppressing a smile when the Marine moved upwind away from the
smoke.

“Can I ask a
favor?” 

She had
started walking again.  The Corporal just looked at her, not speaking.

“When we get
to the mess hall, would you please wait outside for me?  I don’t want my
boyfriend to find out what’s going on.  Not yet, anyway.”

Jessica
looked up at the much taller man as she made her plea.

“I can’t do
that,” he said.  “My orders are to keep you in sight at all times.”

“Did you
watch me shower?”

Jessica put
a little something in her voice when she asked the question.  The Marine
blushed slightly, but didn’t waiver.

“No, but I
was right outside the door and there wasn’t anywhere for you to go,” he
said.  “The mess hall has more than one door.”

“You think
I’m going to run?  Afraid I’ll outrun you?”  She teased.

“You won’t
outrun me,” he said, unamused. 

Jessica
sighed, recognizing that making the man uncomfortable had been the wrong
approach.  She slowed slightly, puffing on her cigarette.

“OK, how
about this.  We go in together, but not like we’re together.  Like
two people that don’t know each other and just happened to arrive at the same
location at the same time.  You keep an eye on me from somewhere else in
the room, but like you don’t know me.  Can you do that? 
Please?” 

Jessica came
to a stop and looked up into his eyes as she said the last.  He looked
back at her for several moments, finally sighing and looking away.

“I guess
that doesn’t violate my orders,” he said.  “But if you try to get away,
I’ll drag you back in cuffs.  Understand me?”

“Thank you,”
Jessica smiled, resisting the urge to rise up on her toes and kiss his
cheek.  “I’ll behave.  I just don’t want my boyfriend to know until
I’m ready to tell him.”

The Marine
nodded and Jessica picked up the pace for the rest of the walk to the mess
hall.  They entered together, the guard holding the door for her and
peeling off to a mostly empty section of the large, open space.  Jessica
looked around, spotting Mark seated by himself at a large table on the far side
of the room. 

He was
sitting with his back to the wall and had already seen her.  She walked
over to him, smiling despite the revulsion and anger that were threatening to
overwhelm her.  Taking the seat next to him she allowed him to briefly
take her hand underneath the table.

“Why here,”
he complained.  “I can’t even kiss you here.”

“There’s
other things we can do here,” Jessica said coyly.

Turning in
her seat to face him, she placed her hand on his leg and slid it up into his
crotch.  Mark jumped slightly, not expecting the intimate touch in a
public location. 

“What are
you doing?”  He gasped as she squeezed his quickly stiffening penis.

“Having
fun,” Jessica said.

She squeezed
him again, hard, then found his zipper and pulled it down.  Reaching in
the opening, she worked her hand through his underwear and grasped his now
fully erect cock.  Roughly, she pulled it through his fly, continuing to
stroke it.

“Jess…” he
said, trying to maintain his composure.

“Shhhh. 
Hold still,” she whispered, leaning down as if she were going to take him in
her mouth.

Jessica’s
right hand slipped inside her purse as she continued to stroke Mark’s
cock.  She had positioned her head so that when she withdrew a small
dagger she had retrieved from her quarters he was unable to see the danger. 
Her first strike was lightning quick, to the inside of his thigh.  She
severed his femoral artery, but the knife was so sharp the pain didn’t register
in his brain.

Then, grasping
the end of his penis, she slashed with the razor sharp blade.  There was
little resistance as the appendage came free from his body.  Hot blood
spurted across her face, dripping from her hand and chin as she held the
severed penis up for him to see.

“Dos Vedanya,
bitch,” she hissed in his face.