Class Fives: Origins (37 page)

Shock exploded on the guard’s face even as he was pitched backwards by the force of the heavy bullet.

Beside him in the cab of the truck, the passenger grunted and wriggled toward the door, as if trying to get comfortable, but when his hand reached over the lip of the open window it, too, held a silenced gun that spit a second bullet into the throat of the other guard, who dropped straight down, already a corpse.

The Lieutenant leaned to press the illuminated button on the dashboard.

At the rear of the squat, bulbous tank, there was a metallic noise and the entire back of the tank dropped open, clanging to the ground heavily.

Six men, all dressed identically to the dead guards, poured out of the vehicle down the incline of the tank’s backside, and split to either side of the truck, jogging quickly toward the fence.

The last man reached out to slap the door of the truck even as he changed direction and moved swiftly toward the small blockhouse set against the fence, disappearing inside.

The Lieutenant pushed the button again and heard the loud whine of the motors hauling the rear panel of the tank up and back into place.

Even as it clanged shut, he heard the dull hum and the gate began to rattle open, the thick, low, steel pillars beginning to retract into the roadway.

As soon as there was enough space to slip through, the Lieutenant slammed the truck into gear and rolled forward, through the opening and down the lane toward the building ahead. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he could see four of the men had fallen in behind the truck , using it to shield themselves from any eyes looking out of the building as they jogged behind, their own weapons in their hands. A flick of his gaze to the corner of the mirror revealed that the other two men were dragging the bodies of the actual guards toward the small clump of bushes off to the side of the opening, even as the gate began to slide closed once more, and the steel pillars began to rise.

So far, so good, the Lieutenant thought. Another minute and they would be around the side of the building where the loading dock was located, and nothing would look out of place to any casual eye.

Their target was located four levels down, in the very bowels of the cave-like structure. Although he didn’t have any of the codes that would open the four heavy doors that stood between the truck and the laboratory where they would collect the container, he had a marvelous little device, designed by some insane computer wizard somewhere, that would command those locks to open as if it had beaten them into submission.

He turned the truck into the small paved area outside the currently sealed loading dock doors, yanked on the brake and leapt out, leaving the engine running.

The passenger was already hopping down, moving to where a few cars were parked in the far corner of the open space. He would disable all but two, whose engines he would hot wire and have waiting when the rest of the squad emerged from the building in less than ten minutes.

The six men would divide between the two vehicles, the Lieutenant himself taking the container, and pull back to the gate where the other two would join them. They would then detonate the explosives, packed tightly into the walls of the bed of the tank, blowing open the loading dock doors and, with luck, flattening everything for a hundred yards around.

By the time anyone worked out that two cars were missing from the lot they would be long gone, and investigators would be puzzling over what caused the truck, full of a very volatile explosive gas, or so they would assume, to detonate.

The Lieutenant moved swiftly to the small man-sized door at the side of the loading dock and raised the small, square device, pressing it hard over the keypad for the lock. He touched a button and a low, sharp whine erupted from it, shooting up in both volume and pitch as the signal blasted through the entire spectrum of electromagnetic signals until it found the one that caused the lock to react, in spite of itself.

There was a dull popping sound and the door opened slightly.

A moment later the men were pouring through, into the loading dock.

Just inside the door the Lieutenant spotted two men in coveralls standing, chatting casually, their conversation interrupted by this unexpected intrusion. Before either could react further, he raised his pistol and dropped them both with a single shot each without breaking stride.

The men mounted the steps to the loading level and moved swiftly to the closed doors of the large freight elevator.

Again the device emitted its shrill whistle, and again the keypad surrendered. The elevator doors rolled open. Two men remained in the loading dock, flanking the elevator, their attention already focused on keeping the path between it and the loading dock door clear. The remaining three men stepped into the elevator, where once again the device worked its electronic magic, and the Lieutenant stabbed the lowest button on the small panel. The doors slid closed and the box began to descend.

The two guards stood quietly, flanking the gate, their attention extended for any notable sight or sound that would require them to fulfill what they had been hired to do, which was prevent anyone from entering the facility’s grounds by whatever means was required.

The one on the left of the gate sensed it first, a distant itch tugging at his attention. It took a few seconds before he recognized it as a distant sound that didn’t seem to belong in this otherwise placid countryside of hills and forests.

But before it completely resolved itself, he caught sight of the two vehicles approaching at the far visible end of the narrow lane, several hundred yards distant. He snapped a glance at his companion, who nodded in acknowledgement and quickly checked the submachine gun slung over his shoulder, assuring himself it was loaded, a round already in the chamber, and the safety was off.

They watched impassively as the two dark, lumpy vehicles approached, one after the other. When they were only a dozen yards away the guard close to the small concrete blockhouse set against the fence stepped forward casually, raising his arm in a warding motion.

The first SUV began to slow, its darkened windows making it look like a slowly lumbering beast sniffing along a hunting trail.

It rolled to a stop, the matching vehicle behind it mirroring the pause, and the guard stepped toward the driver’s door. The window rolled down revealing a man in some kind of uniform that the guard couldn’t quite place, despite his long years of military experience. For a moment his sense of alarm cleared its throat, but he caught hold of it and leaned down with a smile.

“Can I assist you?” he said, his Czech letter perfect.

“Yes, that would be very nice,” the man said, his own words clumsy and distinctly foreign in the Slavic language. Not local, the guard instantly thought. Accent sounds…

American, he realized.

A cold chill shot up his spine and he straightened, momentarily unsure if he should continue the charade, hope to turn these intruders back or simply start firing.

The helicopter suddenly burst over the trees, no more than a hundred yards away, swooping in low, the sound of its rotors exploding suddenly around him.

The sound jerked his attention upwards, and in doing so, stole his life.

Even as he was snapping his gaze back to the window of the car, the shot from the passenger’s seat whizzed past the driver and punched deep into the guard’s chest, dropping him in a burst of blood and surprise.

On the opposite side of the vehicle the other guard was stepping swiftly back, the barrel of his own machine gun jerking up. He squeezed the trigger. A sharp, loud rattle of shots ripped through the air, but the bullets merely struck the closed passenger’s window and ricocheted off with a series of high pings.

His attention was too tightly focused on his own shock at the bulletproof nature of his target, his mind whirling, struggling to find some other action that might have a better effect. He never saw the passenger door of the following vehicle pop open, the figure lurch up, leveling the pistol and snapping off a single shot that blew through the side of his head, knocking his body sideways in a heap on the ground.

All the vehicle doors sprung open and the two quartets of men emerged, each bearing a silenced handgun.

They only paused a moment to watch the helicopter roar overhead and drop suddenly, slowing to settle on the plush, wide lawn inside the fence. They didn’t have to see the six men leaping from the already-open side door of the chopper and dashing toward the distant building.

A few moments later, the gate began to rumble open as the driver of the first vehicle punched in the code that triggered the motor driving it.

They poured through the opening gate into the grounds.

At his desk on the other side of the world, Crawford watched the live feed from the dashboard camera of the first vehicle. So far, so good, he thought.

For a brief instant he felt a pang of something uncomfortable, his eye flicking to the lower corner of the video frame where the guard had dropped. He vaguely hoped that the man and his companion had been two of the bad guys, not merely a couple of innocent working stiffs simply doing their job, but he quickly shook off the thought. It couldn’t have been helped in either case. And if they really were part of whatever force Montgomery had sent to retrieve the mysterious object Svag had been working on, then that might just be far worse, because it would mean that they were already there, though most likely not yet gone.

He watched the squad of men rush away, across the wide lawn, ducking to avoid the still- swirling rotor blades of the chopper as they circled around it and were masked from view.

Whatever was going to happen, he thought, would be over and done within a few minutes now. And God help us if it all goes to shit.

The elevator doors rolled open, revealing the long corridor leading straight to the heavy metal door of the underground laboratory. The Lieutenant took the lead in striding down the corridor, his silenced pistol in his hand at his side, the other two falling into step behind him, their own weapons hung ominously in their hands.

People had the wrong idea about conducting such operations, he considered. In the movies there were laser beams and man-traps and all manner of fantastic security. They seem to forget that such targets are, first and foremost, places where actual people had to work on a daily basis, and would be designed toward those purposes. Most security would have to be cobbled on top of whatever arrangements suited that primary function of the space. And in most cases a nice, heavy door of some form was thought to be sufficient, as was the case here.

He stepped up to the final keypad, placed the device over it and pushed the button. Once again the high whine of noise cut through the air, and the final impediment popped open.

He took a moment to stow the small box in the wide pocket on his thigh, then turned to the other two men and gave a nod, raising his own pistol to point at the ceiling, ready to drop down and bark its disapproval if required.

He pushed open the door.

Beyond it was a small control room with thick glass walls, on the other side of which was a large, dark chamber lit only by the sharp beam of light being emitted from the silvery device set at an angle from the windows. That tight needle of light was stabbing into an odd-looking glass tube with bulky silver caps on either end sitting, on a low pillar in the middle of the room.

Already turning toward the door was a middle-aged man, his rumpled shirt and trousers topped by a casually donned white lab coat. His face was squinted behind the thick glasses, and his brows plunged down in annoyed curiosity.

“What – ?” he sputtered. “What’s going on here?”

“Dr. Svag,” the Lieutenant said quietly.

“Yes?” the man said. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“There has been an emergency. You must shut down your experiment,” the Lieutenant said in moderately crippled Czech.

Svag seemed about to react, then stared hard at the trio.

“Who are you?” he whispered, his tone growing hard.

The Lieutenant took one more moment to consider the need to talk the man into some form of cooperation, and the need to get the item and get out.

“Okay,” he said, to no one in particular and raised his pistol, firing a single shot into the man’s chest.

Svag was blown back against the sloping control panel, and managed to grip its edge, his shocked expression turning back to the man still pointing the gun at him, his own face collapsing in total confusion and pain.

“What - ?” he managed to croak.

“Dr. Montgomery says ‘thank you’,” the Lieutenant said and shot him again.

Even before the body had fully collapsed to the floor, the other two men were moving swiftly to the control panel, one of them stepping to straddle the corpse and begin the procedure they’d practiced to shut down the current system.

The Lieutenant stepped to the corner of the control room where a small, heavy door opened to a set of steps down to the slightly lower level of the large chamber.

In a few seconds the large device emitted a snapping sound and the needle of bright light died away, plunging the space into a deep gloom.

One of the men at the control panel flipped a switch and harsh, glaring lights from high above bathed the chamber.

The Lieutenant opened the door, hopped down to the floor and moved briskly across the chamber toward the low pillar where the oddly-shaped glass and silver container was seated. He turned back to the large window where one of the other men leaned down to a microphone.

“Transferring to internal battery power… now,” his voice echoed flatly through the space.

The Lieutenant nodded.

“Releasing clamps,” the voice added.

There was a pop, a hiss and the Lieutenant regarded the container. Nothing seem to have changed.

He hesitated, wondering if what he’d been told about the thing was at all accurate. Supposedly there was something inside it that could, if not handled correctly, blow a hole in the ground about a hundred feet deep.