The Red Phoenix 12: Strength Comes in Numbers (33 page)

He fired at the door, causing it to vanish in a thin cloud of smoke.

“Amazing!” said Eric.

Siddoway cast a prideful grin, leading them into the room that had rows of shelves containing canned food, First Aid kits, and cases of bottles of water, packaged snack-foods, and blankets. Ron, Eric and the others grabbed bags that were on a shelf and began collecting items.

“Get whatever we can carry,” said Siddoway, scrambling to store items in his bag, his XD slung over his shoulder. “Bottles of water, canned food, flashlights. Whatever.”

“There is enough stuff here to last us for a while,” said Eric.

“I hope we don’t have to wait that long,” said another worker.

“You got that right,” added another.

“I’ll get some extra First Aid supplies!” Siddoway said in a loud voice, going to the far end of the supply room.

“Eric? Brad? Brian?” Ron whispered, beckoning them to huddle with him.

“What is it, Ron?” asked Eric.

“Listen, I don’t trust this Siddoway guy for a second,” said Ron in a cautioning tone. “I saw news reports that he was wanted for murder and had killed several FBI agents who tried to arrest him.”

“So he’s dangerous, man,” stated Brad.

“That’s an understatement,” Ron responded. “You know what else? Siddoway is full of shit. I heard the announcements over the intercom. He snuck back into the facility with that bomb and tried to blow the place up and the security staff countered him. This story he’s selling that it was the security personnel and Chris Michaels who were responsible for the bomb going off is a crock.”

“Greenfield seems to trust him, Ron,” Eric added. “That can cause problems.”

“Well, I don’t know what he did to gain Greenfield’s confidence but I’m telling you, it’s just a suck-up play he’s doing to save his own ass,” Ron responded.

“So, what are we going to do?” asked Brian, sounding scared. “He’s got that weapon with him.”

“Listen, we’re heading to the security officer depot next. After we load up on some firearms, I’m going to take him out,” said Ron.

“You’re going to kill him?” asked Brian, worried.

“I’ll injure him if I can, but I’m telling you Siddoway is not to be trusted,” Ron answered.

“Ron, he’s a weapons expert,” Eric cautioned, “which means he’s probably fast.”

“I took first place in a gunslinger contest back in ninety-nine at Arizona State University when I got my master’s degree,” Ron said proudly. “I just need to know you guys will back me up.”

“That’s risky, Ron,” said Brad, scared.

“Siddoway is coming back,” said Ron. “What do you say?”

“Okay,” said Eric, nodding.

“I’m in,” Brian replied.

“Me too,” Brad answered.

“I got what I could,” said Siddoway, smiling, carrying three loaded down bags of medical supplies.

“That’s great,” said Ron. “We better get to the officer’s closet, shouldn’t we?”

“Sure, sure,” Siddoway responding, leading them out the door. “It’s just right across the hall.”

Ron followed Siddoway, glancing back at the others, indicating it was almost time to activate their secret plot against him.

“Okay, step back, you guys,” said Siddoway, aiming his gun at the officer’s closet then firing, causing the door to vanish.

“That’s an incredible gun you got there, Siddoway,” said Eric, following Ron and Brad into the closet.

“There are lots of shotguns, rifles, pistols and ammo in here, Siddoway, but we’ll need your gun one more time to get to them,” said Ron.

“No problem, get behind me,” Siddoway replied.

Ron moved behind him as Siddoway shot at the locked gun cabinets, causing the locked door to disappear.

“Excellent!” said Ron excitedly as they loaded shotguns and pistols.

“Hey look, there is even body armor, said Brad, putting one on his chest.

“Remember, just take what we can carry,” Siddoway advised, putting on body armor around his chest and upper thighs at the door, fastening them with Velcro straps on the sides.

Ron loaded a buck shot round into a shotgun and gave Eric a serious stare, signaling it was time to take down Siddoway. Eric nodded back at him.

“Well, let’s head back, fellas,” said Siddoway, turning his back as he headed out the door.

In the corridor, Ron, Eric, Brian and Brad lined up in a row like they were setting up a firing squad, aiming their weapons at Siddoway’s back. Ron pumped a round into his shotgun chamber. The sound was unmistakable. Siddoway stopped then looked partially over his shoulder.

“That’s far enough, Siddoway,” said Ron in a cold voice. “Now, drop that weird weapon you pretended to design before I blow you into next week.”

“I don’t understand. What is this?” asked Siddoway, worried.

“You didn’t honestly think we were going to let you play us like you’re playing Greenfield did you?” asked Ron.

“What are you getting at?” asked Siddoway.

“We know you killed Dennis Mueller, along with all those federal officers who came to arrest you in Tucson,” Ron answered. “You set that bomb off upstairs and are now looking for redemption by being the president’s savior.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Siddoway replied, facing them with his hands up. “I killed Dennis Mueller but it was because he stole from me and ruined my life,” Siddoway responded. “The FBI came for me but they were after a framed man.”

“You murdered Mueller and his execs,” said Ron. “You weren’t framed. You’re guilty. And this shifting the bomb thing on to security and Chris Michaels? Please, don’t you dare insult our intelligence any further. The whole thing was caused by you! Tell the truth, dammit!”

“Again, Ron. You’re right. The explosion was my fault. I lied to all of you. I’m a terrorist and should be tried for my crimes and found guilty for treason,” said Siddoway in a complying voice. “I should probably get the death penalty for the things I’ve done.”

Siddoway watched Ron and the others carefully, lowering their guards and their barrels as he expounded on his shame.
As soon as Ron lowers his barrel, I’ll have them all,
he thought.

“Don’t worry, Ron. I won’t put up a fight,” Siddoway continued in a calm voice. “I’ll come quietly.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” said Ron, calming down. “All this destruction; all those people, innocent people, are dead because of you!”

“You’re right, Ron. You’re right,” said Siddoway.

Ron turned his head to Eric. Siddoway lowered his hands.

“Why don’t you collect his gun from him while I—”

“—Look out!” said Brian, raising his gun.

Siddoway fired, disintegrating Ron into vapors then Eric and Brian too as their guns hit the corridor floor crudely.

Brad dropped his gun, panting in tears.

“It was Ron’s idea!” he cried. “I just want to go home, man!”

Siddoway aimed his weapon at him with a crazed stare, furious.

“I think you would have let Ron shoot me in the back, Brad,” said Siddoway.

“No!” cried Brad.

Siddoway fired, watching Brad turn into a passing mist.

“You’re home now, Brad,” said Siddoway in a whisper.

***

The overhead strobe lighting flickered in a multi-elevator vestibule on level minus sixty-two. There were cracks in the walls like the entire level was breaking apart slowly.

The set of elevator doors opened. Chris and Kirk One scanned the vestibule carefully as they exited. Kerry and the rest of the clones came out, ready for anything, gripping their weapons.

Chris came to a stop as a loud rumbling was heard above the ceiling and beyond the walls of the corridor. They looked around, wondering where it was coming from. The floor began to vibrate like there was an earthquake.

“What is that sound?” asked Kerry, worried. “Why is everything shaking?”

“The under levels are destabilizing,” Chris answered, worried.

“I don’t understand that word,
destabilizing
,” said Kirk Five.

“It means the inner structures of the lower levels of this place are going to collapse,” Chris replied. “We’re running out of time.”

A
ding
sound chimed from a set of elevator doors across the vestibule from them; the elevator doors opened swiftly, catching Chris’ attention.

“That was weird,” he mumbled, staring towards the exposed elevator shaft.

The sounds of several people screaming in a descending elevator from the shaft above became louder.

“What the?” Chris muttered, walking towards the elevator shaft as the noise became louder.

Suddenly, its wires having been snapped, an elevator fell down the shaft in front of Chris with a brief, thunderous noise. It was carrying multiple screaming people, each with horrified faces.

“Ah!” hollered Chris, stepping back as the sounds of terror faded in the depths of the elevator shaft.

“That was awful,” said Kerry in an empathetic voice, moving to the elevator. “All those people.”

Chris rushed to the edge of the shaft and looked down, panting, seeing nothing but a bottomless hole.

“Damn!” he said softly in a harsh tone, slamming his fist against the wall. “All these people dying right in front of me.”

“There was nothing you could have done,” said Kerry.

“You would have helped them if you could,” said Kirk One, sincerely.

“I know,” Chris responded. “You’re right. You both are.”

“Are you okay, Chris?” asked Kirk Ten.

“Let’s go,” Chris responded.

***

Chris led his clones down a corridor, walking briskly on level sixty-two, holding their weapons at the low-ready like they were going to battle.

“Where is the experimental lab, Chris?” asked Kerry.

“It should be at the northwest wing,” he answered, his face sweating.

As they rushed around a corner, hurrying down another hallway, an older man, wearing a white lab coat, with his hands in the air, screaming, came around the corner like he was running for his life.

“Help me!” he cried, collapsing into Chris’ arms.

“What is it?” Chris asked, desperately, trying to help the older man maintain his stance.

“It’s in the office!” he replied, his voice weakening. “It’s a huge mon—”

The older man gnashed his teeth, gripped his chest over his heart and fell unconscious. Chris laid him down carefully.

“He’s going into cardiac arrest, Chris!” said Kerry excitedly, crouching to help him.