Anvil (29 page)

As I pulled
him up, the pre-recorded voice stopped in mid sentence and the alarm went
silent.  We shouldn’t have, but all of us paused.  A moment later a
new recording began playing as the fans started to spool down.

“
Atmosphere
is clear and safe to breathe.  No fire detected
.”

The fans spun
down, the metal louvers closing with loud clicks.  The automated
announcement was on a loop, loud in the suddenly quiet building.  Reaching
up, I loosened a strap and cracked the mask an inch away from my chin. 
Taking a cautious breath, I gagged and nearly threw up inside the mask.

Thousands,
perhaps tens of thousands, of infected had died inside the building. 
Death is not the clean, sterile passing often portrayed on TV and in
movies.  When the body ceases to function, muscles relax.  And it’s
muscles that control bladders and sphincters.  The overwhelming stench of
human waste was indescribable.

Slapping my
mask back in place, I looked to TJ who had extras dangling from a strap on his
pack.  I gave the team a quick warning over the radio, and fresh breathers
were passed around and put on.  Everyone held their breath as they
changed, even though the air was technically safe to breathe.

As I was
tugging the straps for my new mask tight against my head, I began hearing infected
screams.  There weren’t close, yet, but the females in the parking lot
were coming into the building.  I had no idea if they’d be able to find us
easily.  Certainly doubted they’d be able to track us by smell, but didn’t
really care.  It was time to get the hell out of here.

We reached
the door at the end of the hall after what seemed an interminable amount of
time.  The screams behind us steadily drew closer as we moved, motivating
us like nothing else could.  Getting caught in the open wouldn’t be
good.  With the tricky footing, it would be damn difficult to fight off an
attack
and
make our escape.

Once at the
door, it took way too long to clear out dead females so it could be
opened.  The hallway was packed tight, and we had to pull bodies up and
stack them out of the way.  This was more difficult than it sounds. 
As soon as a corpse would come free, those around it would flop into the
freshly vacated space.

Soon we were
all cursing, sweating heavily as we worked.  Breathers had to be changed
again, and I got a snoot full of the horrid, cloying sewer smell when I was
swapping mine out.  Even with a new mask and fresh oxygen flowing, the
stink stayed with me, trapped in my sinuses.

Handling
corpses absolutely sucks.  It drives home the term “
dead weight
”. 
A 140-pound dead body is more difficult to move than a live one.  Every
joint is loose, flopping and shifting as you lift.  It reminded me of a
summer job I had in high school, working in the oil fields near Odessa, Texas.

At the time,
the massive drill bits were kept from overheating by injecting mud into the
hole.  That mud was packaged up at another location, put into large burlap
bags and stacked on a flatbed truck.  My job was to unload those hundred
pound sacks of mud, one at a time, when the trucks arrived.

Picking up
one of those wasn’t unlike trying to pick up a corpse.  As soon as you
think you have a good grip, the mass shifts.  You react to the change and
the fucking thing shifts again.  Finally, you get pissed off and just
throw it, hoping it lands where you want it.  Sometimes it does, and
sometimes you have to move it again.

And doing
this with a bad shoulder wasn’t helping my disposition.  By the time we
had cleared enough bodies for Chico and I to stand on the floor, I was in the
mood to face the infected with nothing but my bare hands.  The rest of the
team wasn’t in any better frame of mind, but we kept our frustration to
ourselves and worked without pause as the screams drew closer.

Chico and I
were using our backs and arms to support the edge of the mass of corpses, feet
braced against our exit door.  Still on top, Drago was pulling out one
female at a time, passing the body on to TJ who had taken to rolling them like
logs.  He had built a stack a few feet back down the hall.  I could
hear the females hunting, screaming to each other, and not being able to see
the direction they would come from had ratcheted up my tension.

 “That’s
enough,” I grunted in the exertion of holding back the wall of dead.

Drago
dropped into the small open space a moment later.  He helped hold as Chico
and I shifted to make room for him to pry the door open.  It was a slow
process to shift around and not let an avalanche of bodies bury the area we’d
worked so hard to clear.

“Contact!”

I heard TJ’s
voice on the radio an instant before his suppressed rifle began firing.

“Hurry,” I
hissed to Drago, throwing myself against the wall of ever shifting bodies.

TJ was
firing single shots, well spaced, so I didn’t think there were a lot of females
approaching.  Yet.  But they were screaming and others would be
flooding into the hall in response to their calls.

I turned to
get a better angle and make room for Drago to work.  My face was pressed
against the chest of a dead female as I leaned into the constant pressure, and
I was thankful for the plastic mask that covered my skin.  Behind me I
heard the sharp bang of Drago forcing the pry bar into place, then his grunt of
exertion. 

“Let’s
go!”  He shouted as I felt the bottom edge of the now open door bang
against my foot.

No one
moved.  I was waiting for Chico, who was waiting for me.  TJ was
continuing to fire, the rate picking up significantly.  For fucks sake, we
must have looked like the Keystone Cops.

“Chico, go,”
I shouted.

When he
moved, the whole wall shifted, threatening to inundate me.  With a scream
of effort, I pushed.  My hands began slipping, then disappeared in amongst
the bodies.  An arm fell free, flopping against my head and coming to rest
on my shoulder.  I could feel the mass of corpses beginning to shift
without the second point of resistance Chico had provided.

“TJ! 
Move your ass!”

I screamed
at the young Ranger as another arm came free and the corpse directly in front
of me slipped a few inches.  My face was no longer pressed against her
chest.  I was now face to face with the bitch, only a thin layer of
plastic between us.

TJ fired
several long bursts, then I could feel the vibration from him moving across the
top of the pile.  He bounced off me as he jumped into the open
space.  The screams sounded like there were females right over my head,
but I was hesitating.  I was afraid to release my hold.  Worried the
mass would collapse towards me so fast that I’d be trapped under its weight.

Drago solved
the problem for me.  Reaching out, he grabbed onto each edge of my vest at
the arm holes.  Chico had his arms wrapped around Drago’s waist and TJ was
locked onto Chico’s belt.  The three of them pulled in unison and I was
yanked backwards through the open door.

I wound up
on top of a pile, Drago and Chico beneath me.  TJ had sidestepped our
falling bodies and was reaching to close the door as the wall of corpses began
to tumble towards us.  As TJ’s hand wrapped around the door handle, a live
female appeared and launched herself forward with a scream.

She impacted
TJ squarely on the chest.  The back of his legs came up hard against my
hip and he fell backwards over me, the infected riding him to the floor. 
More females were screaming and I saw movement in the hall as I tried to
extricate myself from Drago and Chico.  Two more females were leaping, but
the door was closing.

TJ’s hand
had pulled it slightly as the female struck him, starting it swinging on its
hinges.  As the females were preparing to leap, the wall of dead infected
that was no longer being supported suddenly broke free and tumbled against the
door, slamming it closed with a resounding boom.

There was no
time to celebrate as the female that had come through and attacked TJ screamed
right behind me.  Finally getting my feet under me, I turned just in time
to take her charge.  I was slammed against the door, which thankfully
didn’t budge.

The female
was tearing at me, her face lunging forward as she sought a mouthful of my
flesh.  I had a forearm up and against her throat, levering her away as my
free hand fumbled for my knife.  Before I could find it, her head was
violently snapped to the side as Drago hit her with the iron pry bar.

Her skull
broke open with an audible crack, her limp body flopping to the side. 
Drago looked at me a moment, breathing hard, then ripped the mask off his
face.  Wiping sweat out of his eyes, he took a deep breath, held it a
moment, then grinned.

“Thanks,” I
said, removing my breather.

“Hey!  TJ!”

Drago turned
and I moved past him.  Chico was kneeling over TJ who was on his back and
not moving.  I dropped to the ground on the other side and looked over the
Ranger’s body, not seeing any injuries.

“What’s
wrong with him?”  Drago asked, bent over my shoulder.

Chico had
two fingers on TJ’s neck, feeling for a pulse.  After a long wait he
withdrew his hand and looked up at us, shaking his head.  Fuck! 
Reaching out I did the same.  Not that I didn’t believe Chico, but I
needed to feel for myself.

There was no
pulse, and when I lifted his eyelids I could see that his pupils were fixed and
dilated.  Chico grunted, looking at the floor right next to TJ’s
head.  Blood was slowly pooling, soaking his tightly cropped hair. 
He looked a few inches above the dead Ranger’s head and pointed at a smear of
hair and blood on the front edge of the first step leading to the roof.

I slipped my
hand under TJ’s neck and gently worked it up the back of his skull.  There
was a large depression and his scalp was split open.  That’s where the
blood was coming from.  Removing my hand, I sat back on my haunches and
cursed long and loud.  When the female had hit him, he’d tripped and
fallen back, his head cracking open on the steel covered edge of the step.

If we hadn’t
needed to wear the breathers, he would have had a Kevlar helmet with his night
vision goggles on his head.  It would have protected him.  He would
still be alive.  Goddamn it, I was tired of this shit!

Chico
carried TJ’s body up the stairs, gently laying him on the roof next to the
helipad as we waited for the Black Hawk to pick us up.  It wasn’t a long
wait, and the constant screams from the ocean of females packed into the
parking lot faded into the background as I thought about what was to come.

Glancing at
my watch, I did the math and realized that after the nearly ninety-minute
flight it would be close to time for me to surrender to the Russians. 
Time for me to remind Colonel Blanchard of his promise to find Katie and get
her to Seattle.  Unfortunately, I’d probably never know what happened to
her.  I didn’t expect to survive long once I was in Moscow. 

 
Watching
the Black Hawk approach, my thoughts turned to Rachel.  I missed
her.  She had become a part of me, and if things had been slightly
different…  I shut down that line of thought, standing and helping Chico
hoist TJ onto his shoulder. 

We rushed forward
as soon as the landing gear touched the roof.  TJ went in first, the door
gunner reaching out and helping so the fallen Ranger’s body was placed gently
on the deck.  Drago and Chico followed, then I climbed up and flopped down
on a web sling.  We were airborne an instant later.

The flight
was long and no one was in the mood to talk.  I was lost in thought. 
Chico sat on the deck, cradling TJ in his arms.  Drago sat next to him,
his big hand on Chico’s shoulder.  They stayed that way for the entire
time it took us to reach our destination.

I had
expected to be taken back to the front, surprised when I saw we were landing at
what looked like a small, civilian airfield.  Stepping out, I waited as
Chico and Drago lifted TJ’s body clear of the helicopter.  There wasn’t an
ambulance or morgue detail waiting for us.  That didn’t happen any more.

“Take him to
that hangar,” I said softly, pointing across the tarmac.  “We’ll figure
out how to honor him properly.”

The two
Rangers nodded, Drago reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder.  We
locked eyes for a moment, then I looked over at Chico.  He stood there,
holding TJ in his thick arms like a child.  After a moment he turned and
began slowly heading for the hangar I had pointed out.  Drago dropped his
hand and followed.

I watched as
they walked away, turning when a Hummer pulled to a stop behind me. 
Colonel Blanchard stepped out and walked forward to greet me.  I shook his
hand, then realized I should have come to attention.  Oh well.  If he
wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it, neither was I.

“Congratulations,
Major,” he said.

“Thank you,
sir.  But we lost three good men making it happen.”

I knew
Blanchard didn’t need me to remind him.  He was just like Colonel
Crawford.  Every Soldier in his command mattered to him.  To him, they
weren’t expendable pieces for the chess board, even though in reality we all
knew that’s exactly what we were.

“What’s the
word from Pearl?”  I asked.

“Not good,”
he said, shaking his head.  “Admiral Packard wants to speak to you.”

I nodded, not
looking forward to the conversation.

“Remember
your promise to me,” I said, facing him squarely and looking into his
eyes.  “Find my wife and get her help.”

“I haven’t
forgotten,” Blanchard said.  “I’ve already got patrols out searching her
last known location.  No luck so far, but as soon as her beacon gets
activated we should be able to zero in on her.”

I nodded,
waiting patiently as he pulled out a sat phone and hit a speed dial key. 
He identified himself when the call was answered and a moment later held the
handset out to me.

“Major
Chase,” I said when I lifted it to my ear.

“Major,
Admiral Packard.  Job well done in Utah.”

“Thank you,
sir.”

“We’ve had a
small problem, Major.  The software that was copied over from the servers
in Salt Lake City corrupted when it was loaded.  A critical, hidden
encryption file was missed.  It’s been downloaded and the system is being
rebuilt, but we aren’t going to be ready before the deadline for your
surrender.”

Fuck
me.  Of course we weren’t.  Nothing ever went the way it was supposed
to.

“Sir, how firm
do you think the Russians are on that deadline?”

“Admiral
Chirkov just called to remind me that we have thirty minutes.  We’re
monitoring Russian C2 traffic and the order to prepare to launch has been
issued.  Unfortunately, they’re very serious.”  C2 stands for Command
and Control.

“How long
until the software is ready?”  I asked.

“Four
hours.  Minimum.”

“Well,
sir.  I guess that doesn’t leave me with a whole lot of options, does it?”

“No,
Major.  It does not.  But let me be clear.  I am
not
ordering you to do this.  I will understand and fully support your
decision if you decide not to surrender.”

“Sir, I
appreciate that, but you know as well as I do that there’s no other way to stop
the Russians from wiping Hawaii off the map.  Just tell me one thing. 
Will the deaths of the men I lost in Utah and my surrender be worth it?”

There was
silence on the line and it only took me a moment to realize the Admiral wasn’t
going to answer.  He’d probably already said too much on the phone, even
if the signal was encrypted, and wasn’t going to say any more.

“Understood,
sir,” I sighed.  “Have you given any thought to my request about Petty
Officer Simmons?”

“Investigators
found evidence that the man she killed was a Russian agent.  They also
discovered three others working here in Pearl that he had recruited.  I
have a hard time charging someone with the murder of a man that I would have
stood up against the wall and shot in the head.  As far as the rest of it,
I agree with you that she made a mistake.  One which I’m hoping she has
learned from.

“She will
not be facing any charges, but will have her security clearance revoked,
demoted in rank and placed on restricted duty until further notice.  But,
I have a feeling she’ll be back on top of the heap in no time.  She really
is a remarkable young lady.”

“Thank you,
sir.”

I was
genuinely surprised.  Packard had everything he needed, evidence wise, to
charge and convict Jessica.  The fact that he was willing to take
circumstances into account spoke volumes about the man in the uniform.

“One final
thing, sir.  My wife.  Colonel Blanchard has assured me he will find
and help her.  I would like your word that you personally will make sure
everything that can be done for her will be.”

“You have my
word, Major,” he answered quickly.  “And thank you for what you’re doing.”

“Don’t thank
me, sir.  Just help my wife.”

“Godspeed,
Major,” Packard said, a moment later cutting the connection.

I handed the
phone back to Blanchard, looking around the area, not really knowing what to do
next.  Out of old habit, my hand strayed to my breast pocket, looking for
a pack of cigarettes that I knew wasn’t there.  Blanchard smiled, reaching
into a cargo pocket and pulling out a crumpled pack and battered Zippo, handing
them to me.

“Got in the
habit of carrying them for Colonel Crawford,” he explained when I gave him a
questioning look.

“So how do
we do this?”  I asked, lighting a smoke and inhaling deeply.

“I’ve
already been contacted by the Russians.  They have a helicopter standing
by, waiting for my call.”

I nodded,
puffing away on the cigarette.  Glancing at my watch I saw there was
twenty-three minutes left to the deadline.

“Call them,”
I said.  “Tell them to be here in twenty-three minutes.  Can I borrow
your phone?  I’ve got something to take care of first.”

Blanchard
nodded and waived his aide over.  The Captain ran up and handed over a
radio handset.

I walked a
few yards away and made the call.  Lieutenant Hunt quickly connected me to
the Australian phone exchange and I listened to half a dozen rings before a
breathless Lucas answered.  Soft music was playing in the
background.  Not the kind of music I knew he would choose to listen to.

“I didn’t
catch you with your pants down, did I?”  I asked.

“Bloody hell
you damn wanker!  You have the worst timing,” he laughed, and I couldn’t
help but laugh with my friend.

“Sorry,” I
said, even though I really wasn’t.  “I don’t have much time, so listen
close.  OK?” 

I talked for
five minutes.  Told him everything I could.  Told him that Rachel and
Irina would be arriving sometime in the near future.  Then told him where
I was going.

“Are you
fucking daft?”  He exploded when I explained about the surrender. 
“You know what they’ll do to you?”

“Yes,” I
said, tired of explaining my decision to people.

We talked
for another minute, Lucas promising to take in the two women when they
arrived.  He made a couple of other promises I hoped he could keep, then
we said our good byes and I hung up.

Returning
Blanchard’s phone, I lit another cigarette and checked my watch.  Seven
minutes.  Walking over to the Colonel’s Hummer, I began taking off my
weapons and placing them on the back seat.  After most of a minute, I was
unarmed.  Taking my vest off, I placed it on top of the pile of knives,
firearms and spare magazines.

Turning back
to Colonel Blanchard, I pried the gold wedding band off my left hand and held
it out towards him.

“When she’s
better, give her this,” I said.

He nodded,
taking the ring and slipping it onto the chain around his neck that held his
dog tags.  After that, we stood there in silence, waiting for the Russians
to arrive.  I smoked the rest of the cigarette, lighting another from the
butt of the first. 

The Captain
was monitoring the radio with a headset and from the corner of my eye I saw him
step forward and speak softly in Blanchard’s ear.  The Colonel nodded, but
didn’t say anything to me.  Moments later, right on time, I heard the
sound of multiple rotors approaching.

Looking up,
I saw a large Hind Mi-24 approaching, escorted by four Apaches.  It came
in low and slow, touching down on the tarmac a hundred yards away from where we
stood.  The troop compartment door opened and two men stepped out of the
aircraft.

“Sir, it’s
been an honor serving with you,” I said, turning to Colonel Blanchard and extending
my hand.

“The honor
is mine,” he responded, snapping to attention and raising his right hand in a
salute.

After a
moment, I too came to attention and returned his gesture of respect. 
Taking a deep breath, I walked across the tarmac and up to the two
Russians.  Both were Spetsnaz, one an officer, the other a senior
Sergeant.

“I am Major
John Chase, United States Army.”