Project 731, page 20
part #3 of Kaiju Thriller Series
“The remaining Brices, ranging in age from twenty to forty, operate out of Area 51. If the Tsuchi senses them the way Nemesis would a single offender, it will be drawn to them, its thirst for vengeance overpowering.”
“And what about Cole? Is he a clone, too?”
Endo shakes his head. “He’s a genius, like Brice, but not in the scientific way. He’s not a fan of Brice, or much of what he does, but he appreciates and utilizes the weapons being developed.”
“Ends justify the means,” I say. “I get it. So when does the shit show begin?”
Endo glances at the X-35’s digital displays. There are screens full of numbers and instruments I can’t make sense of, but the map, with a dot quickly moving atop it, is clearly our position in the world. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. Better get dressed. And wake the others.”
Nine minutes later, after dropping off the shell-shocked janitor outside the Little A'Le'Inn—a small restaurant and inn welcoming UFO fanatics to the outskirts of Area 51, where he was excitedly received as an abductee—I’ve exchanged my GOD uniform for Silhouette’s, which is just different enough to be recognizable. Thankfully, we’re close enough to the same size that it fits well. The ensemble is completed by the head piece and mask, which Endo claims the man rarely removed. Apparently, the BlackGuard leader preferred to keep people guessing, even his superiors.
Hawkins has also dressed in a uniform and concealed his face behind a mask. He’s bigger than me, and he’ll be playing the part of Obsidian. He’s not quite as big as the BlackGuard behemoth, but if no one scrutinizes him, it could work. Endo wanted to leave everyone but Lilly behind. Her injuries would grant us access to the infirmary, where he was sure we would find Alessi and Woodstock. But Hawkins wasn’t about to let Lilly out of his sight, and if Endo is right and a Tsuchi is going to attack the base, I’m not about to leave Collins and Maigo on the surface. Silhouette on the other hand, bound and seat-belted...he’s on his own.
“Two miles out,” Endo says. “We’ll be on the ground in forty seconds. When the hatch opens, follow me.” He looks at me. “If anyone questions us, keep your answers short and terse. Lower your voice an octave, if you can. Everyone, even Cole, should feel like you’re on the verge of getting violent. No one wants to be on your bad side.”
I glance at Silhouette. He’s staring right at me. We are most definitely on his bad side. That could be a problem someday.
Endo taps my arm with the back of his hand and points out the windshield. “Look.”
Looking out the front, it takes no effort to find what he’s pointing at. The Tsuchi, a good four hundred feet from mandible to tail tip, races across the barren terrain below, leaving a towering trail of dust behind it. “Why haven’t they spotted it yet?”
“They’re watching Vegas,” Endo says, “but they’ll know it’s coming when it passes the motion sensors a mile out from the base.”
We cruise over the Tsuchi and a line of mountains. Area 51 comes into view ahead and below. We swoop down toward it, the Tsuchi closing in, and our friends, according to Endo, are fifteen stories underground. This...is going to suck.
33
By the time the X-35 ramp lowers, the base is coming to life. Soldiers run about, armed and ready for war, most of them lugging heavy weapons instead of standard rifles. Several large auto turrets, like those used by the BlackGuard in Oregon, but much larger, rise out of the concrete. They’re joined by several missile systems rising from the ground. They look like surface-to-air missiles, but I suspect they’ll work just fine against something that’s two-hundred-feet tall. It’s clear that all the action has nothing to do with us, and everything to do with the Tsuchi cresting the 6000-foot-tall Papoose Mountain, just south of the base. From above, the Tsuchi didn’t look too dissimilar from the first, but I can now see that its four rear legs are stocky and powerful, with wide, split claws at the base, rather than the scimitar blades.
I wave the others down the ramp, saying, “Let’s move. Go, go, go.”
When everyone, except the bound Silhouette, is out, Endo steps up next to me. “Try to slow down. Stay calm.” He motions to Silhouette. “You’re supposed to be him now.” I look at our captive, tied up and gagged in the back of a vehicle that might get tromped by a Kaiju Tsuchi. Despite what I would call a worst case scenario, he’s calm as can be, like he’s got the situation under control.
“Right,” I say. “Lead the way.”
Endo strikes out at a relaxed pace, not even glancing up when two AH-64 Apache attack helicopters loaded for bear fly overhead. Our small group, all dressed in BlackGuard uniforms, faces covered by masks, head across the tarmac. Lilly is similarly dressed, her face hidden, but she lies on a field stretcher carried by Hawkins and Maigo.
The buildings ahead aren’t very impressive, and I think that’s the point. The base remained a secret for a long time, thanks to its uninspiring facade. Long hangars, single-story buildings, bland structures all the way around. Looks more like a low budget construction company than a top secret base developing and testing the most advanced tech in the world. According to Endo, and conspiracy theorists, it’s all a sham. The real action is underground, and even if the entire world knows it, who cares? They still can’t see what’s going on here. But we’re about to.
It takes all of my restraint to not look back when I hear missiles take to the sky, multiple explosions and the Tsuchi’s high pitched roar. But I manage to stride on like it’s no big deal.
Endo leads us to a small building that looks like a double-wide mobile home. The steps look like old wood, but they’re solid metal. At the top, the door, also faux worn and solid steel, slides open smoothly. The short hallway on the other side of the door ends at an elevator, one of many hidden in the buildings around the base—or rather, bases, plural—with each elevator leading to a different black operation, all protected by the U.S. Air Force, who likely has no idea what really goes on below ground. Two guards, dressed in black, flinch at the sight of us. They’re either spooked by the knowledge that a Kaiju is approaching, or by the sudden appearance of the BlackGuard.
We head straight toward them and stop. I wait in silence, glaring at the men, letting them think it’s Silhouette behind the mask. Finally, I say, “Dark Matter for the infirmary.”
One of the men, let’s call him Chuck, looks past me, at Lilly. “Looks like one of ours.”
He’s right, so I lift off her mask, revealing her feline face. She twitches, but doesn’t wake, still out for the count, which is definitely concerning. Endo better be right about getting her some fast help here.
Perhaps bolstered by Chuck’s questioning, the second man, we’ll call him Bob, inspects the rest. “I heard you lost men.”
“New recruits,” I say, slowly turning my reflective face on Bob so he can be reminded about how worried he looks.
Bob forces a laugh and hitches his thumb toward Collins. “Since when does the BlackGuard recruit wom—”
Collins cold cocks Bob in the side of the head, dropping him in a crumpled heap.
Chuck reaches for his gun, but Endo, Collins and I are all faster on the draw. Before he gets the weapon from its holster, he’s got three muzzles leveled at his face.
“Are you aware of what we lost today?” I ask, making sure my voice is low and threatening.
“Ye-yes, sir.”
“Then you must also realize that I am in a really, really bad mood.” I push my weapon into his forehead. “You know they won’t care if I shoot you, right? You are dispensable. I am not.”
Chuck is shaking a little bit right now. I’ve never instilled this kind of fear in someone before. Silhouette must have a seriously nasty reputation.
“Now call the God. Damned. Elevator.”
The man places his hand on the palm print scanner. Blue light flashes back and forth, and the elevator doors slide open. Once we’re inside, the doors closed, Collins says, “Too much?”
“Just right,” Endo replies. “And not the first time one of them has been punched.” He pushes one of three elevator buttons.
“Only three levels?” I ask.
“Three main levels, each with more elevators going down. But we are primarily interested with what is on levels one and three. Any lower could be...dangerous. Even for the BlackGuard.”
“What’s below level three?” Hawkins asks.
Endo looks back at Obsidian’s doppelganger. “Answers.”
“To what?” Collin says.
“To everything.”
“Okay, thank you Captain Cryptic,” I say. “But why level three? I thought the infirmary was on the first level.”
“It is, and you’ll see. It’s not something I can easily explain, but...you need to know what you’re really up against.”
“Make sure you add mysterious and foreboding to your eHarmony account.” I straighten my relaxed posture as the doors open, but the act is for nothing. The hallway on the other side is empty...and gloomy. The hall is round, like a large sewer pipe. A grated metal walkway is mounted to the curved floor. The lights along the ceiling are yellow and caged. This place is built like a Cold-War bomb shelter.
A vibration moves through the tunnel. The Tsuchi is waging a war on the surface, but can it reach us, GOD and the Brice clones down here? Feeling a sense of Endo’s foreboding, I head down the hallway, each footfall echoing loudly on the metal floor.
“Second door on the right,” Endo says.
As we pass the first door, I glance through the window into a sophisticated control room with large, interactive displays, tech I don’t recognize, Zach Cole and more than one Alicio Brice. My plan is to continue past without stopping, but I fail to stop myself from doing a double take. Not because of who I saw, but because of what was on the large screen—Nemesis. On land. Not in LA or pre-recorded anywhere on the East Coast during the last two years. The barren desert she’s stomping over is definitely West Coast, meaning this picture is live.
It takes all my will to move forward, but I need to get Woodstock and get out of here before the Tsuchi puts the smack down on this place. As we approach the second door on the right, I note that it is guarded. Not wanting to dick around with the guy, I walk up to him, look him in the eyes—and he steps aside, unlocking the door with his handprint. I was going to knock him out and use his hand, but this worked out well enough. Our group files inside. It looks like a small hospital, with rooms on either side of three hallways, left, right and straight ahead.
Endo points to the right and looks at Hawkins and Lilly. “You’ll find a large, clear, pill-shaped device at the end of the hall. Put her inside, seal the hatch and step back. Do not interfere until it is finished.” He points to Collins and me. “You two with me.”
“You sure about this?” Hawkins asks me.
“If you’re not comfortable, we can wait, but we don’t know how she’s doing.”
“I have no reason to lie,” Endo says, “And I harbor the girl no ill will.”
Hawkins stands motionless for just a moment and then makes up his mind, leading Maigo and the unconscious Lilly down the right hallway.
A nurse steps out of a nearby office and looks surprised to see us. “Oh. You guys again.” She’s also not very intimidated.
“Looking for the old man and the young woman brought in with him.”
“You mean Old Timer Magnum P.I. and Lucy Liu?”
On the inside, I’m shouting “Yes!” and hugging the woman for seeing the world through the same sarcastic lens as me, but I maintain my cold exterior and say, “Sounds like them.”
She points straight ahead. “End of the hall.”
Without a thank you or nod of appreciation, I head down the hall with Collins and Endo. The door at the end is locked, a hand print reader beside it. The nurse clearly believes that Silhouette or the BlackGuard could unlock the door. We’ve been lucky to have quasi-willing guards at the other doors.
“Maybe you’re still in the system?” I say to Endo. “It’s still a government facility.”
He’s already removing his glove. “They could have flagged me, too.”
“Just do it,” Collins says, and Endo obeys, placing his hand on the scanner. A moment later, the door unlocks. Inside are a surprised Woodstock and Alessi, sitting in comfortable chairs, drinking soda and playing what looks like poker.
Woodstock, whose head is bandaged and right arm is in a futuristic-looking blue cast, and who is dressed in what looks like a bright blue flight suit, throws down his cards and says, “Really? I’m about to drop a royal flush down, and you bunch of yahoos are gonna—”
“Don’t,” Endo says to Alessi. “It’s me.”
Alessi’s eyes widen. “Endo?”
“Don’t what?” I ask.
“Hudson?” Woodstock says, his surprise matching Alessi’s.
Endo, Collins and I lift our reflective goggles so they can see it’s us.
“Well, damn,” Woodstock says. “Alessi here was about to shank you!”
Alessi holds up her right hand. She’s holding a long, sharpened piece of metal. “Took it off my bed,” she says.
“They would have killed you,” Endo chides.
“They were going to anyway,” she argues.
“We decided we’d rather die fighting than wait it out.” Woodstock grunts and stands. “And to be honest, we weren’t sure we’d see you all again. Now, let’s get this pony show on the road.”
The nurse looks alarmed when we exit with Woodstock and Alessi in tow. “I wasn’t told about any transfers.”
“Hey,” Maigo says, suddenly appearing beside the nurse. She slugs her and the woman sprawls over a desk, spilling dramatically to the floor. Before I can get upset, Maigo points to Collins. “If she can do it, I can do it.”
Why is everyone in my life always right?
“Where is Hawkins?” I ask.
“Still with Lilly. And a doctor. He’s helping, but not happily.”
“We have time,” Endo says to me. “You need to see.”
“I need to come with you,” Maigo says. She’s not being demanding or young, so I believe her. Whatever is down there has something to do with Nemesis, and that means it has something to do with Maigo.
Surprisingly, Endo looks to me, waiting for my answer.
I nod. “Collins, you’re coming with us, too.” I hand Woodstock my sidearm. The KRISS rifle over my back, taken from the X-35’s small but well stocked armory closet, would be too much for him to handle with one arm.
Endo gives Alessi his KRISS, and says, “Ten minutes. Then we’ll all leave together.”
“Stay here by the door,” I tell them. “If anyone not us comes in—”
“We’ll use our best discretion,” Woodstock says and gives a lopsided grin. “Of which I have none.”
Endo heads for the door, opens it and leans out. The hallway is empty. The guard now missing. When he catches my odd expression, he says, “Must be the Tsuchi.” Then he points to my mask and pulls his down. Collins, Maigo and I do likewise, and we follow him into the hallway. We backtrack toward the elevator, and I steal a second glance inside the control room. The large viewscreen is now split, one side showing Nemesis, still charging over empty desert, the other side showing the Tsuchi above us. Helicopters swoop around it, firing missiles and chain guns, all with no effect. It’s no longer walking. It’s stopped in the middle of the base and appears to be...digging.
The people inside the room are moving about quickly, gathering equipment and laptops, driven by Zach Cole, who is clearly shouting, but unheard thanks to the thick door.
“Looks like they’re bugging out,” Collins says.
A vibration rocks the tunnel.
Endo, against his own advice, breaks into a jog, and we follow. We quickly reach the elevator. Endo punches the 3, and the doors shut.
“Why the rush?” I ask.
“The base will be liquidated before risking the release of what’s below.”
“And what is below?”
The elevator stops and opens. No guards.
Endo jogs down the metal-floored hallway, identical to the one above. When he reaches the first door, he stops at the palm reader and places his hand on it. The door clicks open, and he enters.
Maigo tenses, gripping my arm.
“What is it?” I ask her.
“I can feel them.”
“Feel who?”
She looks at the open door. Collins is inside with Endo, standing still. She glances back. “Jon... You need to see this...”
I hold my hand out to Maigo. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. No matter what.”
She takes my hand, and we step inside together, both of our grips tightening as we see what’s inside. As my heartbeat ratchets up, I ask, “Endo, what... Who are they?”
He turns to me, and then Maigo. “You don’t recognize them?”
And then, at once, I do.
And so does Maigo. Her hands go to her head as she screams in pain, the very sight of these...things...returning her to a memory of ancient tortures that are fresh for her and faded for me.
We’re looking at Nemesis’s creators.
34
Alan Baxter stood on the tarmac of Area 51, surrounded by his fellow Marines—a special detachment assigned to the defense of Area 51. They waited amidst rising waves of hundred degree summer heat and abject chaos. The monster was approaching. He had no other name for it than Kaiju, the generic designation now used for the gargantuan creatures that seemed to be a part of the world. He’d never seen one in person before. Never had a desire to. And now that he was up close and personal with one, he wanted nothing more than to run the other direction. Not because he was a coward, but because he knew a losing fight when he saw one.
Like most of the men streaming out of hangars, he carried a fifty pound FGM-148 Javelin missile on his shoulder. The missile was powerful, and the fire-and-forget capability meant he could take a shot and run, but he didn’t see how it would help. While the missile could punch through the thickest modern armor, giving a lone Marine the ability to take out a tank or a helicopter, the Kaiju approaching the base had already shirked off an array of surface-to-air, surface-to-surface and air-to-surface missiles, all of which outclassed the Javelin.
