Revolution of the Gods: The Battle for Sol Book One (8 page)

That sounds just like Simeon,
Cadan thought.

“Can you take me to that area?” Cadan asked.

With a considered reluctance, wondering what he was getting himself into, Ben replied, “Yes.”

A
fter they turned right and walked down the middle of Mandela Parkway, Ben could no longer remain patient. “Why are you seeking this man?”

“Let us find him first and I will explain more to you then,” Cadan replied, watching a drone fly by overhead.

The two of them walked for a few more minutes until they reached the site of the central command building. As they passed by, Cadan looked at the arcs positioned properly in place now.

“Section 23 is just a little further,” Ben said.

By the time they reached the corner of 28th Street, the city blocks were becoming more densely populated with ragged white tents and stained plywood huts becoming more prominent. In front of the dilapidated West End Commons Townhomes stood a rickety collection of tents stretching across the entire road and down one city block.

Cadan and Ben entered the miniature tent city, each scanning down the chaotic fissures on his respective side. They were almost in the center of this dingy white sea when Ben said, “There!” He pointed to a man that fit Simeon’s description.

Cadan quickly pushed Ben’s arm back down.

“Assume you are always being watched,” he reminded his new friend.

Ben felt a bit embarrassed for he knew this basic assumption all too well after three years of living in the Oakland ROC.

The man that was the focus of their attention was sitting, reading a book which made him stand out markedly in the surrounding frenzied environment. His hair was no longer neatly kept and his beard was beginning to run wild, but the scar on his left cheek was still unmistakable.

A shadow extended across the page Simeon was reading. When he looked up and recognized Cadan, a broad smile separated his bushy beard.

“My trip was somewhat delayed,” he chuckled, standing to shake his old friend’s hand.

“What do you think… are you ready to check out of this place?” Cadan responded clasping Simeon’s hand.

D
eep under Dugway Proving Ground, Bracken and Dr. Hauer were sitting in the general’s office. They had exchanged information for over two hours. And while both of them shared some very astonishing revelations, it was Hauer’s side of the conversation that was the most shocking.

Once the doctor concluded his last explanation, Bracken sat motionless in complete disbelief. A chill was coursing through his body making him fell numb all over. He could feel his face become ashen as he absorbed Hauer’s words.

“General, I would not have made this disclosure if I did not believe you could be an integral part in preventing what is to come,” the doctor added, attempting to calm the general.

Bracken snapped out of his blank stare and shook his head slightly as if he were rearranging his thoughts back to a logical order. He looked down and opened his desk drawer to retrieve a solitary stale Marlboro cigarette that had been lying in the back of a tray for over two years.

“I kept this in here for years as a way to trick my mind that I had not given it up forever,” Bracken admitted. He grabbed a lighter in the same tray, lit the cigarette and continued, “Out of all the troubling recent changes in our world I have managed to allow that trick to work….till now.”

“It is a nasty habit General but one that can be overlooked at the moment,” Hauer conveyed in a forgiving tone. Pulling Bracken back to task he asked, “In light of our recently discovered mutual goal, what do you propose we do next general?”

Bracken’s color had returned to his face and it was a deeper shade of red at this point. His shock rapidly transformed to anger as he deliberated Hauer’s question.

“I need you to explain what you’ve told me to my unit leaders. We need to prepare for a briefing by 2200 hours. That will give me enough time to coordinate the other officers and develop a new strategy. According to what you have explained, I recommend we begin Operation Goliath no later than tomorrow.”

“I agree General, time is of the essence. What may I ask are you going to do regarding Taon?”

The cigarette made a soft hissing sound as Bracken took a long, calming draw of the smoke. With a furrowed brow, he pulled the burning tobacco away from his lips. The general rested his right hand on the desk with the cigarette between his fingers and began tapping his thumb. He considered his response for a few moments then said, “I will withdraw the recon team. And let us hope he finds his destination. Lindherst’s men will still be conducting an unrelenting search to capture him.”

“Taon will not be without help,” Hauer cryptically assured.

“That’s good because we’re all gonna need as much help as we can get,” Bracken confessed, exhaling his last puff of smoke with a tinge of guilt.

“I will prepare for the meeting and attempt to isolate Taon’s location. It is of the utmost importance that he arrives at his destination. Otherwise our effort will be severely and most irreparably handicapped,” the doctor said, rising back to his feet. “It is good to know that you have arrived at the correct decision- the one that can help save this world.”

Hauer waited for Bracken to unlock the door and headed back to Level 176. Bracken sat gazing at the photograph of his wife and two sons on the right side of his desk. The general had already planned to make accommodations to bring them to the facility but that was based on a longer timeline. Things were about to happen much quicker than anticipated and he felt a streak of panic run through him.

I have to make sure they are safe.

As his office windows switched back to transparent mode, Bracken observed Colonel Osborne looking in his direction from the command deck. Although Bracken had not brought him into his inner circle regarding Operation Goliath, he had a limited trust for Osborne nonetheless. The general could only afford an exclusive membership to his cause.

Despite his competence, Osborne didn’t make the cut because of his murky spec ops history. The colonel was the prototypical officer. He wore his uniform to perfection and carried out each order likewise. Osborne was odd in one way. He stood over 6 foot 4 inches tall with the most perfect posture of any soldier Bracken had ever observed.

“Colonel Osborne, report to my office,” Bracken rasped over his comm system.

“Yes Sir,” Osborne said entering the office with a hastened stride.

“I would like my family brought to the facility.”

“Yes sir,” the colonel replied, thinking that the request for the transport of Bracken’s family was very strange.

“I want you personally to take a V33 to Salt Lake City instead of a regular transport. I will alert my wife you will be there within the hour,” Bracken directed, standing up and rubbing his constricted forehead.

“I will leave immediately.”

After Osborne left the office, Bracken got back on his desk viewer and ordered the recon team to withdraw from Vegas. He then established a secure channel to General Straka.

Ah! This never gets old!
Straka recalled as he piloted the V33 Raider toward to Tacoma, Washington. The V33 resembled a slightly smaller version of its predecessor the V-22 Osprey. The primary difference in the craft was that the Osprey’s tiltrotors had upgraded with tiltrepulsor nacelles. The upgraded engines allowed the Raider to achieve speeds over 700 mph, more than twice its predecessor.

As Straka analyzed the fuel readout, an incoming message from Dugway flashed on the inside of his helmet visor. He accessed the message and a small projection of General Bracken’s image appeared in the visor’s top left corner.

“Eric, I’ve got some new information that requires a completely new game plan. The stakes are infinitely higher than we imagined. Once you arrive, I want you to remain at Lewis McChord. Go ahead and assume command of the base when you arrive. Begin preparation for a scaled down Ark Protocol. The briefing is rescheduled for 2200 hours. We are initiating a revised Operation Goliath at 0100 tomorrow. I will contact you again at 1600 with more info.”

“I take it you had a meaningful conversation with Dr. Hauer,” Straka prodded, his image projecting back to Bracken from the V33’s console camera view.

“
We are up against way more than we originally planned. I’m going to let Dr. Hauer tell you guys directly what he explained to me. The primary directive of Goliath no longer focuses on just the NAU Command structure… I need to get to work on the new plan,”
Bracken digressed, contemplating the forthcoming load of events.

“Yes Sir! I will await your next communication at 1600. Straka Out.”

The progress bar finally reached 100% and Dr. Leroux’s data compilation was now complete. She had been fully prepared for the briefing on short notice but never imagined it would be necessary to compile all of her database immediately thereafter.

The geneticist had provided only the veneer of her team’s results in her concise introduction to the military. She had not been afforded the time to present the entirety of their findings.

“Dr. Leroux, I need to speak with you,” Pennington alerted as he stood outside her lab door.

Leroux was both startled and irritated at the same moment, “Yes Director?”

“Dr. Leroux, General Straka has sent an order for you to report to the Dugway Facility. I know this is very short notice Courtney and they haven’t told me anything about why they need you so urgently or how long you may be there,” Pennington compassionately confided.

“Can…Can I have some time to get my things together here?” Leroux asked in a foggy state, now blankly gazing past Pennington.

“Sure. Be upstairs by 12:00 p.m. They have arranged your transportation,” he replied.

“Thank you, sir,” Leroux barely responded.

Why the hell do they want me at Dugway without my team? The Ark Protocol would have at least five scientists reporting from Jackson,
the young doctor contemplated with only a cursory knowledge of the one thing that made any sense at the moment.

The Ark Protocol was a contingency plan to protect certain high priority individuals with their relocation to strategic regional underground facilities in the event of a catastrophic global threat. Only its participants knew of the protocol and that was the reason Leroux had knowledge of it. Since there were no apparent imminent world threats and they only asked for her alone, Leroux dismissed the possibility of Ark being activated. As she sat back down at the lab desk, her curiosity and fear battled over the possible reasons for her departure.

T
aon’s first few hours of freedom had been filled with one escape after another – the chamber – the facility – and then the outskirts of Las Vegas, where he was forced down at 6 a.m. local time. The Griffin’s cold plasma shield was disrupted by the single hit from Dugway’s cannon. The shield utilized an extremely high density plasma to withstand various particle beam weapons, but not at the range Taon’s ship was located when exiting the hanger.

The cannon shot breached the plasma plating above the fighter’s rear engine repulsion compartment. Shortly after takeoff, the shield completely dissipated and the outer hull breach became susceptible to the Griffin’s high velocity shear. The plating began peeling off the aft section causing the graviton repulse engine to disable and the power systems soon followed. Taon was not able to maintain more than Mach 2.8 before he found himself hurdling toward the ground at almost 1800 mph.

Ejecting at such a speed and low altitude was a violent ordeal that found Taon lying on his side, semi-conscious. Taon landed about 350 yards away from the smoldering Griffin which was crinkled up against an outcropping. His fatigued muscles, stinging with pain had not yet fully recuperated from his exertions during the facility escape.

Strapped in the ejection seat, drifting in and out of lucid thought, he could hear the sound of approaching Raiders. Their muffled thumps progressively drew him out of his debilitated state. He looked down at his chest and released the restraints. Rolling to the ground, landing on his hands and knees, the data pad fell out of his chest pocket. It hit the ground face up displaying 0650 PST in the status bar and nothing else. Taon looked up and realized that he had crashed almost an hour ago.

The ship had crashed about 1500 feet west of Cliff Shadows Pkwy in west Las Vegas. The escaped GEO had gathered his composure, rose to his feet, and jogged toward the cover provided by the nearest subdivision, Lone Mountain Vistas.

Taon spent the next couple of hours making his way through one suburban housing maze after another. He counted at least seven drones in his immediate area and the constant aerial surveillance drastically slowed his pace. His course was southeast through the shadows of the vacant condominiums and around the empty backyard pools of the closed and abandoned neighborhoods. Walking by a row of townhomes, he randomly chose one to enter to gain cover from three converging drones. A slight shove breached the door and allowed him access.

Taon quietly closed the door and stayed clear of the shaded front windows. While the drones methodically surveilled the neighborhood, the escaped GEO spent time inspecting the interior. Entering the first floor master bedroom, he was intrigued by some framed photographs hanging above the side table just inside the door. The pictures were of the previous occupant which appeared to be a young man in his mid-20s. As Taon analyzed the pictures, he looked down at his bio-suit and realized a change of attire would be prudent.

He walked further into the room, noticing the opened closet doors and a couple of partially packed suitcases abandoned on the bed next to a pile of empty clothes hangers.

Someone left in a hurry,
he surmised.

The ransacked closets were almost entirely void of any clothes but he was impressed by a regal looking outfit left behind. After carefully removing the bio-suit, he grabbed the black tuxedo pants and slipped them on well above his ankles. Taon pulled the inside pant hems completely out making them the proper length. He then put on the white satin long sleeve shirt with a round level black collar and cuffs. The most impressive part to Taon was the two inch column of short horizontal black ropes attached to gold buttons that adorned the garment from the neck line all the way down the front. Finally he shoved on the shiny black leather dress shoes which were very tight but manageable.