One Minute to Midnight (17 page)

"Hell Razor's, hooah!"
Captain Walthorp said.
Just then the elevator doors opened and six men walked into the
hangar. Lt. Dagger, Cataclysm's intelligence officer, steadied his
rifle and fired six times. Even with a suppressor, the
audible
pop, pop,
rang out in the hangar. Dagger turned to the team, and saw
they were all nodding agreement. Six dead bodies lay on the
concrete, each of them with a neat round hole in the center of
their forehead.
"Well, Okay Boy's, let's just make sure we don't kill Goel Fisk. I
believe he's attached to our payday. Gonzales, Speedman, Ruiz, it's
time to go down." The Major said.

They ran for the elevator,
and inside was a number panel with buttons for the hangar, and
floors one through ninety-nine. Someone had written
Science and Engineering Division
next to the button for floor thirty-three in
black permanent marker.

"That was awful nice of them. I think
we'll try that floor first." The Major said.

The elevator moaned and
creaked as it went down from one floor to another, and when they
reached thirty-three, the doors opened and a cadre of troops was
waiting in the hallway with their rifles pointed at the door. All
four Hell Razor’s slammed their backs into the wall as a hail of
torrential gunfire erupted against the inside of the elevator. Ruiz
reached around the corner with his grenade launcher and squeezed
the trigger. With a
whomp
his shell exited the barrel and plowed into the
enemy soldiers outside. The explosion sent soldiers flying in every
direction. Major Cataclysm bolted from his position, and with his
AR-15 he shot each man remaining alive in the face as he ran by.
More soldiers filled the hallway as the Hall Razor's ran by
laboratories housing various machines and instruments. The Major
fired round after round into the onslaught of enemy soldiers, but
when he got close enough for hand-to-hand, he reached for his
thirteen inch serrated blade. Due to the nanobots and titanium
rods, Cataclysm's strength was twice that of most other men. That
also meant no broken bones when he punched and chopped his way
through the fracas. Cataclysm was soaked in blood before they found
their target.

Goel Fisk had been hiding in the
aerospace propulsion lab when Major Cataclysm and his Hell Razor's
stormed in and pointed their guns at him. He cowered before them in
his white lab coat. Fisk had a small face and a Van Dyke beard
trimmed in a neat ‘V’.
"You Fisk?" The Major yelled.

"Yes. What's this all about? Who sent
you, and why me?" Fisk asked.

Goel Fisk had eyes as wide as saucers
as he stared at the Major, and the three other men looked at him
with menace.

"You're coming with us peacefully, or
we're carrying you out. Which is it gonna be?" The Major
said.
"I'm no soldier. Peacefully, I suppose, but can you please stop
pointing those weapons at me and let me get my glasses?" Fisk
asked.

He reached around a cart nearest him
and when his hand reappeared it was holding a Walther PPK.
"Bad idea." Speedman said.

He pulled a small tranquilizer dart
gun from a holster on the side of his cargo pants, and shot Fisk in
the neck before the man could pull his own trigger. Fisk wavered a
second and then dropped to the ground. Speedman ran over, picked up
Fisk's pistol, and put it in his pocket. Then he hoisted the
unconscious man over his shoulder.

"I got us a Souvenir!" Speedman
said.

"Let's hit it." The Major
said.

He reached into his backpack and
pulled out a C4 explosive pack, and set a timer on the explosive
device for ten minutes. Then they began to run the way they had
come, just as more Nazi soldiers rounded a corner down the hall.
Ruiz took a round to the stomach, and then another just above his
collarbone and died on the spot.

"Shit! Ruiz!" Gonzales
yelled.

Gonzales fired a grenade
down the long hallway and obliterated the Nazi offensive with a
loud explosion. From behind they could hear the
tromp
of jack-booted thugs running,
and fired an explosive round back the way they had come. Speedman
was shot in the upper thigh as he ran with Fisk, and
stumbled.
"Argh, dammit! That hurt." Speedman yelled.

"The elevator's just ahead, boys. Get
to it and I'll cover you!" The Major said.

The elevator doors were located down a
short corridor, and the Major was standing in a T-shaped hallway.
To get to that elevator from either direction, the enemy would have
to go through him. The C4 charge exploded far off down another
corridor, but there must have been some kind of fuel source in the
lab he had blown up, because the entire floor shook and glass broke
from every window on that level. When he saw that his men were
safely inside the elevator, Cataclysm tossed another C4 bomb set on
a five-minute timer into the ceiling tiles. The Major checked his
watch, and saw that they had only been gone forty-five minutes.
Plenty of time before Hall would detonate the elevator shaft. When
he got into the elevator, Speedman was slumped over on the floor,
blood dripping from his mouth, and Gonzales was over him trying to
slap him awake.
"He's dead, sir. Bullet must have bounced around inside when it hit
him." Gonzales said.

"Damn, this deal just keeps gettin'
worse." Cataclysm said.

They reached the hangar and the rest
of Cataclysm's men were already engaged in a heavy firefight with
the forces above ground. The Major fired an explosive round into
the hangar and dove for cover while carrying Fisk across his
shoulders. He landed next to Sergeant Hall.

"Did you charge the stairs and
elevator shaft?" Cataclysm asked.

"Yes sir. Tell me when." Hall
said.

"When! It's about to get more crowded
up here."
Hall pressed a button and smoke poured from the elevator shaft and
stairwell as his thermite charges burned through the cables like a
hot knife in butter, and they could hear the muffled screams of men
falling as the stairs collapsed. The Major could see a ramp open on
the cylindrical craft he had planned on taking for President
Yates.

"Take Fisk, get the rest of the boys,
and head for that craft. If I'm not there by the time you figure
out how to fly it, you take off without me." Major Cataclysm
said.

"What are you going to do, sir?" Hall
asked.
"The best I can to cover your asses! Now move!" The Major
yelled.

He broke cover and ran into the center
of the hangar, tossing hand grenades behind stacks of equipment and
other enemy hiding places. Nazi soldiers were running from cover as
hand grenades exploded and Cataclysm’s rifle opened fire, raining a
torrent of hot lead on them. Major Cataclysm was standing in a sea
of flames with the dead strewn about like a child's discarded
dolls, when a large man with a tank top, bodybuilder muscles, and
coveralls around his waist approached him with a shotgun. The Major
slung his AR-15 around a second before a blast caught him in the
left shoulder. It tore through his flesh and exposed the hard metal
beneath, giving him the appearance of an injured Terminator.
Cataclysm held the rifle in his good arm and fired a round directly
into the big soldier’s shotgun barrel, tearing it from the man's
hands with such force that his fingers were shattered. Cataclysm
backed his way toward cylindrical craft and ran up the ramp. The
big Nazi with broken fingers was running toward them, pulling a
pistol from his holster with his good hand. Major Cataclysm turned
back and threw his knife. It was a direct hit that separated the
bridge of his enemy's nose, and buried itself deep inside the man's
head, dropping him to the cement floor. The ramp closed and they
were out of the hangar headed skyward within seconds.

"That was my favorite knife, too."
Major Cataclysm said.

Left in their wake were the shattered
remains of the air base, fires burning out of control and scattered
corpses. Goel Fisk was just waking up, and realized that he was
tied to a chair unable to move. As they flew off into the night,
everyone on board knew this mission would be their last.

"You know, boys I think it's time to
retire to Hawaii once we deliver our new friend Fisk to General
Ashby. Anyone else with me?"

"Hooah!" Was the resounding answer.
The Hell Razor’s opened a Tiki bar on the beach seven months later
and never saw combat again.

ganung padang

A scientist embarks on a quest to prove that
a mountain in Indonesia is actually an ancient man-made
pyramid.

Dr. Henry Phillips puffed on his white kaolin
pipe while standing on the outskirts of camp. He calmly watched the
sun rise on a new day in the Indonesia. His bushman hat was cocked
to the side as he smoked, ignoring the incessant growl in his belly
for food. Early morning was Henry’s favorite time of day, because
it was gorgeous just before the stifling heat became unbearable.
Indonesia was hot, humid, and full of bugs, much like his home back
in North Carolina during the summer. Henry’s three guides and
research assistant Dave Yantz were fast asleep as nighttime
creatures turned in for the day, and Henry stood, a solitary man
embarking on a great adventure. Henry and his team left Jakarta the
previous morning and were on their way to Gunung Padang, a newly
discovered pyramidal mountain in the jungle.
The discovery had caused a mild stir among the archaeological
community in America, but not much more. This was due in part to a
lack of thoroughness in the documentation of the mountain. However,
Henry was convinced that something lay beneath the rocks,
vegetation, and dirt, because the mountain looked similar to the
Great pyramid. If no one else was interested in digging it out,
then he would go alone.
Dave Yantz, a journeyman and archeologist, and Henry's teaching
assistant at the University of North Carolina, volunteered for the
trip as soon as Henry mentioned going. Dave was a tall, gangly
young man, with a peach-fuzz beard he hoped would someday turn
manlier. Dave had been on several archaeological dinosaur digs, and
had been one of three people who discovered the tomb of King Atun,
an Egyptian ruler trapped in Arizona during the last great deluge.
Atun's body was entombed in a cliff side cave when the water levels
were much higher, before the recession and desertification of the
land occurred. When Dave and his team set to the task of exploring
this cave, it was a two hundred foot climb from the canyon floor.
Inside, they found gold chests, papyrus scrolls, and a crudely
constructed coffin with hieroglyphs carved into the side. The
hieroglyphic message detailed King Atun's many heroic deeds, and
described the disaster he and his people had escaped from as water
levels rose and flooded his homeland.

Dave and his fellow investigators had
attempted to draw scientific interest for the expedition from the
university when he was studying for his bachelor's degree, but
mummies were considered sensational attractions and not precious
historical artifacts in the 1800's. Some well educated people
suggested he crush the body of King Atun into medicinal pills and
advertise a prescription for the cure of malady, or take him on a
road show and make a fortune. For that reason, it was decided by
the group that the location for King Atun would remain a secret to
all but those who had found him. Dave and his colleagues left the
mummy inside his burial cave, absconding with only a few pieces of
treasure, and some pictures of them with the king's mummy to mark
their historic find. They hoped King Atun would be rediscovered
another day by people who understood the significance of their
find, and maybe the body would be treated a better than being
crushed into pills for snake oil-like false remedies. Sometime
after that experience, Dave graduated and began his study at the
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill with Dr.
Phillips.
Henry’s excitement grew the more he thought about just how far from
home he was, and how few people dared to tread the path he now
took. Henry saw extinct civilizations in his imagination, the
records, and artifacts of people long dead contained in ancient
ruins beneath layers of rock and dirt. Those images danced in his
mind like a child waiting for Santa Clause to come down the
chimney. In three days they would reach the village of Karyamukti,
and the villagers would be able to point him in the right
direction. His only concern was their temperature toward outsiders.
There were not many white men traveling this way and Henry had
heard ghastly tales of headhunter tribes in Indonesia killing
missionaries. The validity of those stories, while joked about back
in America, seemed very real in the bush. While Henry carried a
Colt .45 revolver, bought when he thought he would have to fight in
the Spanish-American War, six rounds would not save him from
hundreds of poison-tipped arrows. Bringing him out of his trance
were the local mosquitoes flitting about his face and neck, looking
for any opportunity to strike.
"
Hungry bastards, get lost.
"
Henry mumbled, swatting at the blood
suckers.

Dave crawled out of his tent, gave a groan of
discomfort and stretched with his hands in the small of his
back.

"
I’ll never get used
to sleeping on the ground.
"
Dave said.
"
Oh,
yes you will. You’ll get so used to sleeping on the ground that
when you go home your bed will be too soft
."
Henry said.