MuTerra-kindle (26 page)

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Bishop awoke slowly as his senses came alive. Before his eyes opened, he could hear the sounds of the pre-dawn stirring, and smell the presence of his companions. He felt refreshed and decided to take stock of their surroundings before getting started with the final part of their expedition. The temperature on the high plains desert could fluctuate forty to fifty degrees in a twenty-four hour period. While Bishop was unaffected by this, he considered what it meant to others as he saw Moore wrapped tightly in his bedding.

When Moore finally stirred out of his slumber, he saw Bishop standing on top of the tallest mound looking toward the north. He also saw the rock wolf standing near him. By the time he packed his gear, the two had returned.

“I think we’ll make it before nightfall,” Bishop offered.

“What about him,” Moore said nodding toward the wolf.

“I think he’ll go along with us. At least we won’t have to worry about being surprised by anything.”

“I don’t understand how you can be so casual around him.”

“Maybe you just don’t understand him. Everything is trying to survive, but everything doesn’t have to be a fight.”

Moore was not interested in discussing the philosophical aspects of the subject, and decided to let it drop. They ate a small meal, collected their gear, and set out. Moore followed Bishop, keeping a close eye on the wolf while it scouted ahead of them.

Because of the darkness of the skies, storms were mostly undetectable until they were atop you. One such storm came unannounced that afternoon. The first sign of its presence was from the wolf. He veered out of the wadi they were following and crested its slope. He took one look back at his companions then ran off. Bishop and Moore also crested the shallow wash as the peculiar behavior of the wolf puzzled them. When they saw nothing in the immediate area, Bishop’s attention was drawn to the sky as purple flashes of light could be seen within the clouds themselves, not yet extending their destruction to the ground.

“We have to find a place to hide,” Moore said a bit frantically.

“What are you talking about,” asked Bishop somewhat confused.

“Look,” Moore said pointing to the back of his arm. “It’s an electrical storm.”

Bishop did not need to see the hair standing on the back of Moore’s arm; he could see it on his head. Although he had never witnesses an electrical storm, Weston had described them to him and he knew it was certain death to be caught in the middle of one.

They dropped back into the ravine and started off on a run. There was little sound of thunder, but that was not a true indication of how close the storm was. Normally one would avoid low-lying areas in the event of a storm, especially dry streambeds like they were in, as they flooded quickly from unseen water building up miles away. But an electrical storm was just that, lightening and static electricity with occasional hail. The only cover they could hope to find in time would be somewhere in the wash they followed.

Bishop ran effortlessly and soon began outpacing his companion. He could not concern himself about that as he sensed the storm getting nearer. The air was ‘alive’ around him, and they could both hear the first signs of the static discharges contacting the earth around them. One such crash was near enough to Moore that Bishop stopped to see if he had been hit. Unscathed, and filled with added motivation, Moore soon ran past Bishop without a hint of showing any signs of stopping. While the situation was not funny, Bishop had trouble keeping the smile off his face as he turned to follow. Bishop was once again in the lead after overtaking his partner. The crashes of lightning were increasing by the minute and he knew they had little time before the inevitable occurred. As he turned a corner, he saw where the ravine had been cut away on one side creating a cave-like cavity under its rim. Knowing they were unlikely to find anything better, they took refuge in the meager shelter.

They huddled together with Bishop allowing his companion the back portion of the grotto. The storm had reached its full intensity now. Bishop planted his staff in the dirt along the side of the cave. He did not want to lose it, but he knew it was not a good idea to have it too close. The two men said nothing as the storm raged on for what seemed like hours, when in fact it lasted about twenty minutes. There was not much use in talking as the noise from the electrical impacts were so loud, that they needed to shout to be heard even though they were right next to each other. When the storm subsided, they crawled out of their hole and examined their surroundings.

“Wow. I’ve seen them from the valley before, but that was the first time I’ve ever been in one, and hopefully the last,” Moore said in relief.

“It was something, wasn’t it,” Bishop said. “Look at that,” he continued as he pointed toward where they had been before taking cover.

The ground both in and out of the ravine had been scorched repeatedly. There were blackened marks on the rocks themselves, and here and there small patches of brown grass sat smoldering from the brief fires.

“I guess your wolf knew what he was doing,” Moore offered. “You think he made it alright?”

“I’m sure he’s been through it before. I think he’ll be fine,” Bishop said, as he believed. Being alerted by his unlikely companion was all the difference they needed to make it themselves. Now that he was no longer with them, he missed him.

Before that nightfall, the rock wolf had returned and they found what they were looking for. Tucked into the base of the mountain was a manmade structure, which stood apart from its natural surroundings. It resembled a typical military prefabricated building, except for the fact that there were no windows in its walls. Bishop dropped his satchel, removed from it a pair of binoculars Weston had given him, and examined the area. No one was in sight.

“I doubt they have any reason to send out patrols at night, but to be safe, we’ll take two hour watches to make sure.”

“Okay,” Moore replied.

“No fire tonight, so we’ll eat cold.”

After a few hours of sleep, Bishop decided to remain on watch through the night. Moore was exhausted and Bishop needed him to be ready when the time came. He doubted that they had already mobilized a team to send to the valley, and he did not see any signs of dust or noise to indicate otherwise, so he believed they were in good shape. If he was wrong, and they did not send out a force, which he thought highly unlikely knowing his father, he would go ahead with his plan anyway. He would wait a couple of days if necessary, but he knew Moore‘s effectiveness would lessen as each day passed.

―

Early the next morning sounds from the all-terrain vehicles aroused Moore from sleep. He slithered alongside Bishop and they lay side by side peering through their sparse cover at the spectacle before them. Forty-one men, and vehicles loaded with supplies, were counted among the contingent. Moore noticed all of the weapons and concern went out to his friends. “You think they will be alright,” he asked Bishop.

“I don’t know kid. The best thing we can do is what we came here for, do it right, then go help your friends.”

Moore nodded in agreement.

Bishop looked back at the wolf who was sitting and studying the two men, “You can go now boy. We appreciate your help but you can’t do anything for us here.”

The wolf turned his head as Bishop spoke to him. Moore turned to Bishop, “You really think he understands you?”

“Look,” Bishop said while pointing as the wolf walked away from them.

“I don’t think anyone will believe me when I get back and tell them who we had as an escort on this trip.”

Focusing on what they were about to do, Bishop returned his attention to the facility. There was no further movement, or sound, coming from the area after the soldiers had departed. He did not think there would be, as the size of the force that assembled was most likely all they would need. He decided to wait another hour before they moved in. That would allow enough time for the soldiers to put plenty of distance between them and him.

****

It was late in the day by the time they reached the perimeter of the valley so it was necessary to start their campaign at once. Their oxygen supply was their biggest concern. Wallace knew his men had to be thinking about this so he decided to put their minds at ease, and create a significant factor of motivation by briefing them. “Once we get inside the valley we can breathe the air. If you look at the sky above it you can see it looks normal, not like out here,” he said as every man did indeed see the difference after he drew his attention to it. “If we stay out here, we die. If we take our objective, we live. Any questions?”

There was none.

“Squad two, get the mortars set up and ready to fire on my signal. Squad one, secure a position on the ridge where you can see into the village, spot for the mortars, and discourage anyone from coming up here. Everyone else be ready with your teams to take our target. Questions?”

Again, there was none. By this time, each man among them could recite their orders verbatim.

“Okay. Move out,” Wallace said.

The men on the rim could not see anyone moving in the valley below, but the village was in sight. After the first few rounds were used to dial in the target, they unleashed a steady barrage firing for effect. The sound of explosions carried throughout the valley. Buildings disappeared as the remnants of them sailed through the air. Small fires were accumulating as a result of the destruction. After fifteen minutes of bombardment, the village was gone, and the explosions ceased.

Sure of foot, and with a precision born from years of training, the assault team made its way down into the valley with their weapons at the ready. The men were sweating in their protective suits and were running high on adrenaline. When they reached the remains of the village, they did not find one body in all of the carnage. Wallace removed his head covering. The air was fresh and clean. It was air he had not breathed in a long, long time.

Some of the other men followed his example, while most, still not fully convinced it was safe, decided to tough it out for as long as they could. “Get a perimeter set up, and search the area. Keep alert. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t like it.”

****

Bishop was standing outside of the entryway with Moore at his side. The plan was simple. Only a few people operated this part of the facility, and they were mostly scientists. Bishop would take the lead, remove any threats, and Moore would stay close to him while he did so. Moore thought it was a good plan. The door was not locked, as it seemed unnecessary to those on the inside, and Bishop stepped through as if he was expected. To his surprise, they had security waiting just inside the door. It was a member of his former department. He recognized him, but did not recall his name. The man looked at him strangely, recognizing he was not one of the soldiers who left earlier, easily discerned by his clothing, but at the same instant showing a look of recognition. He did not reach for his side arm as he approached them. “Chief, is that you. What are you doing here….out there,” he asked.

“Well,” Bishop said as he took another step closer, “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said just before knocking the man unconscious with a perfectly placed right cross to the man‘s temple. As the man fell, Bishop caught him in his arms and moved him off to the side. He removed his weapon from its holster and the spare clips of ammunition it came with. He realized he had hit the man harder than he intended, and hoped he had not done more damage than necessary.

The building looked like any other warehouse on the inside. There was a wide-open space in its center with offices stretching along each side until they came to the mountain itself. The left side had four doors indicating four offices; the opposite side only had two. They would start with the left. When they came to the first door Bishop opened it, stepped in, and saw that it was empty. It was the same for the next one. Behind the third door, he found a man and women working together at a table. They did not pay any attention to him until he spoke. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stop what you’re doing and come with me.”

“What’s going on here,” the man said indignantly. “Does Mr. Forrest know about this?”

Bishop smiled, walked over to the man, grabbed him with his left hand, and lifted him effortlessly off the ground, several feet into the air. “Mr. Forrest soon will,” Bishop said as his eyes met those of the now frightened man, “You can either do what I tell you or I’ll put you through that wall over there. What’s it gonna be?”

“Okay, Okay. Let me down,” the man said, his eyes going wide with worry.

Bishop did so and motioned for the now compliant pair to walk ahead of them as they went to the last door. When they went inside Bishop found two others. One of them was his father’s former senior aide. He was seated by a radio while typing into a computer. When he turned his attention to the newcomers, the surprise was evident on his face.

 “Jim, get up. You touch one thing on that desk and it will be the last thing you ever touch,” Bishop said menacingly while pointing his newly acquired pistol at the man.

“Keith, what in the world is going on,” Forrest asked while showing no inclination to do as he was told.

“Jim, get up. Now,” he said pointing the gun directly in his face.

He did so, and all four of the prisoners were grouped together away from any kind of communications equipment.

“How many more people are in here, and where are they,” Bishop asked.

“Keith, you tell me what this is all about and we’ll go from there,” Jim Forrest offered.

“I’m doing the asking, and I’ll ask once more. After that, things will start to get real unpleasant. How many, and where are they?”

Forrest saw the seriousness of the matter. More importantly, he saw the seriousness in Bishops manner. He was not sure what it was about and could not think of any reason for such hostility. “Besides the security guard, which is where I assume you got the gun there is one maintenance man in the mechanical room on the other side; the door to the left.”

Bishop instructed them to sit on the floor, back to back, and bound their hands with electrical cords. He then secured them about their upper bodies accomplishing little more than simply buying time. It would not be enough to hold them indefinitely. He gave Moore the gun and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear him clearly, “If anyone gets up, shoot them. If any of them move, shoot them. If anyone starts talking to you, shoot them. Any questions?”