Forgotten Forbidden America | Book 7 | Highway To Hell, page 16
part #7 of Forgotten Forbidden America Series
Marshall stopped briefly to make sure the two were following, but only Hearst gave a nod. “The program software that runs each center was made just for MDWMIC so if any computer with another operating program is ever hooked in manually, alarms start going off. I say this to show you how our MDWMIC was penetrated,” he told them. “Because some of the MDWMIC centers are in cities controlled by the Republic, I can see how they got the program but each center had different security keys and only six here in D.C. knew the ones to the mainframe, and all six were exposed to radiation. Two are already dead.”
“Shit,” Hearst mumbled and stumbled around the desk to drop into a chair.
“Of course I went straight to the MDWMIC center but it was showing all clear, and the personnel knew there was radiation in the area, that is their job, but they couldn’t just announce it. To their credit, most thought the exposure was coming from outside the detection area but like I informed them, the units are sensitive enough to pick up on that. Not to mention the fact, many walking around in the monitored area were walking radioactive signposts,” Marshall told them.
“I called my teams in and they brought in gear to scan those who worked at the MDWMIC. Those that were hot and posed a danger to us, I sent home. It took my team two hours but they detected a ‘glitch’ six days ago at a hub near the river. Without me even asking, they searched for Alexander’s calling card and found it buried in the computer code.”
Stopping to keep his voice level, Marshall leaned back in the chair. “I took a team and headed for the hub and sure enough, found it had been breached,” he said with his face getting red. “The laptop was still hooked up but had been erased. There was another laptop there that was hooked into the CCTV network. When I was two miles from the hub, my team at the MDWMIC center reported the program online going apeshit because it was not only registering every person in the coverage area that was radioactive, but eight spots lit up like there had been an explosion.”
Again, Marshall stopped because Gifford and Hearst weren’t making the connection. “Sir, Sin Eaters were still at that hub and only left when they spotted trouble coming. When they erased the laptop that was used to hack into the mainframe, it worked as it was meant to,” Marshall explained and thought Gifford was going to puke. “Someone had to be at that laptop to keep sending instructions to the mainframe to ignore the radiation it was picking up.”
“Hold up,” Hearst said. “You mean to tell me Alexander was there?”
“I doubt it,” Marshall answered. “I do know he was there five days ago when the center was hacked but once that was done, he could leave some that were computer savvy to continue the hack.”
Fighting the nausea so he wouldn’t puke, Gifford turned to Hearst. “Remind me to send some troops out to the NSA. They are to go inside and choose ten people at random to shoot in the head,” Gifford said and Hearst nodded.
“I suggest twenty,” Hearst replied. “What are we going to do about those who were exposed and pose a danger of contaminating others?”
“The damage is done but if we tell everyone to take a few days off, like, for Thanksgiving, those who aren’t dead by then will be at less of a risk of contaminating others around them,” Marshall answered. “I suggest we go with a cholera outbreak or something. Find someone over the water for the area and blame them. This time, I’m proposing we don’t acknowledge anything about this being a Sin Eater attack, no matter what Reaper puts out.”
Surprised when neither complained, Marshall continued. “I sent teams with gear to secure the eight sites. The placement of the material was well-thought-out. It was placed mid-way on escalators, in turnstiles, and other choke points where people would pass through but couldn’t stop. Each site had a pound of radioactive material and it is weapons grade,” Marshall stressed. “I had some sent to the Department of Energy to see where it came from.”
Pulling several sheets from his padfolio, “That is what I’ve been chasing since the camp. I knew the only way that kind of power was supplied it had to be nuclear, but I still can’t find where in the hell he got the small reactors or who made them,” Marshall said.
“Hold up,” Gifford snapped. “You mean to tell me Sullivan had small nuclear reactors made to run that camp?!” he cried out in shock.
Really shocked from Gifford’s reaction, “Yes, sir,” Marshall answered. “Sir, we’ve made reactors of many different sizes over the years. Hell, NASA became a specialist making small ones to power satellites and space probes. But every person or department that I know of who has access to material and the knowledge to do it, looks at me like I’m insane when I ask. We need to know just how much material the Sin Eaters have because we now know it’s weapons grade. Not high-quality material, but they could make a low yield nuke with what they used to contaminate the area. I just need to know how much they have left.”
Leaping up from his chair, “What the fuck?!” Hearst cried out.
“I’ll fill you in later, Hearst,” Gifford said but kept his eyes on Marshall. “Do you think the Sin Eaters or Reaper will make a nuke or try this kind of attack again?”
Shaking his head, “About repeating a similar attack? No,” Marshall answered confidently. “Like the VX, this is Reaper’s way of punishing us for running the death camp. If there was a way I could inform him, I would tell Reaper we didn’t know what the fuck Sullivan had up there. If I had known that idiot had VX and small nuclear reactors, I would’ve assigned eight thousand troops to guard the area. We keep those under guard for a reason.”
Feeling overwhelmed and confused, Hearst collapsed back into his chair. “What about them making a nuke?” he panted out.
“Now, that I can see,” Marshall admitted and felt the panic level skyrocket in the room. “No, not to use as a weapon,” he stated confidently. “They would use it as a failsafe, like if their headquarters was surrounded. Instead of fighting to the death, they would send up a mushroom cloud.”
“Now we know the MDWMIC centers would pick that up since the Sin Eaters set up in rundown parts of cities,” Gifford said with hope.
“Sir, they could move it in a lead box and until that box was opened, the MDWMIC would never read the material,” Marshall pointed out. “But this does hamper me a bit,” he confessed. “When my teams find them after they’ve set up a new command area, depending on the location, I can’t just launch an attack. I’ll have to watch them and hit them when they change locations.”
The conference button on the desk phone went off, startling everyone in the room. Leaning forward, Gifford stabbed it hard with his finger. “I said I don’t want to be disturbed when I’m in a conference!” he bellowed.
“Sorry, Mr. President,” Glenda said meekly. “Your security staff told me to report you’ve received a message on your private e-mail.”
Feeling woozy, Gifford saw Marshall stand up to lean over the desk, “Tell her thank you, sir, because that was worth interrupting,” Marshall clearly ordered.
Nodding and pressing the intercom button, “Thank you, Glenda. You did a good job,” Gifford told her and let go of the button before Glenda could respond. Opening up his laptop, Gifford brought up his e-mail and sure enough, saw an e-mail from Reaper with a smiling emoji.
“Open it, sir,” Marshall said, moving over to the mounted screen on the wall. When the message was opened Marshall saw an enclosed video file, but a short message was sent. ‘Your move, idiotic, fascist piglet!’ was typed in a weird font. “He’s so juvenile,” Marshall sighed.
Bolton was about to again point out Reaper was only acting juvenile to undermine Marshall’s thinking process in hunting the Sin Eaters. The childish rants and putdowns, Bolton was certain were only done to throw Marshall off. As the president opened the video file Bolton stopped again, convincing himself Marshall knew that and Bolton was slipping if he pointed out what the colonel already knew.
The screen blinked as the video started and Marshall gave a groan seeing the Washington Monument in the background. “I so hate this motherfucker,” Marshall sighed.
“Hello, dumb asses,” Reaper sang out from the video. “I’m surprised it took you that long to figure out our party trick,” he chuckled. “Wonder how many sins we’re going to claim over the years for your incompetence?
“I really figured someone would spot trouble from that MDWMIC center that first day, but Alexander was right that we could get one or two more…”
“Pause it!” Marshall barked, and the president did as Marshall turned to Bolton. “What did you just hear?”
“Reaper expected us to realize we were under attack by the third day at the latest, not the fifth,” Bolton answered hesitantly because that was admitting failure, but Marshall seemed pleased by his response.
“This was made the day before they put out the material,” Marshall said confidently. “Reaper just didn’t want to make a new video, so he’s moved and set for another large attack.” When Marshall motioned for Gifford to hit play, Gifford had to drink a glass of water first because ‘large attacks’ from Sin Eaters were always monumental problems.
“…days,” Reaper smirked as the video continued. “Again, I will offer you a choice. Provide decent care to those you have detained and I won’t use the rest of what I have, unless you leave me with no choice.”
“I knew it!” Marshall cheered out. “He’s making a failsafe with the rest!” Gifford and Hearst didn’t think that was something to cheer about, but kept watching the screen.
“If you accept, do a conference tomorrow, Samuel, and wear a blue tie to show that you accept,” Reaper offered, and Gifford didn’t even rant about the use of his first name. “Since Marshall is such a fucking imbecile, I’m leaving him a hint where he can meet me at my next attack. Of course that is, if he gets this message in time. Sin Eaters are slowly strangling the feds and you don’t know how much pleasure I get from that, so use what you have wisely because sneaking in five ships at a time is going to be so much harder after my next adventure. I’m sure when others find out just how barbaric the feds are, rules of engagement are about to change.
“On a personal note, I do have to give you kudo points on Operation Water Well. I know Marshall’s dumb ass didn’t come up with that plan. Tell June I said thank you because without her, Alexander never would’ve picked that up. I had to push back our D.C. party because the Sin Eaters had to haul ass west to stop those prisoners from escaping. What really pisses me off about that, we didn’t even grab marshmallows to roast over the fire but, maybe next time.
“I trust all of you have come to realize the level of discipline and training my Sin Eaters possess. We strike where I want, when I want, and how I want. No matter where any of you run and hide, I’ll find you. I truly hope you can escape across the pond, just so the Sin Eaters can follow and consume more sins abroad,” Reaper said. “If you figured out my message, Marshall, I should meet up with you soon.”
The video ended with a hologram of the Sin Eater skull on the screen. “What message?” Hearst asked turning to Marshall, but he was heading across the room. Stopping at a small table, Marshall snatched the phone up as he punched the keypad hard with his fingertip.
Turning to Bolton, “What message?” Hearst repeated.
Not sure if he should answer, Bolton held his tongue until the president looked at him. “Reaper was referring to the supplies that are being snuck over on the cruise ships, and we won’t be getting any more after he exposes what we’ve been doing,” Bolton said.
“There’s no way,” Gifford gasped as Marshall slammed the receiver down.
“FUCK!!!” Marshall screamed.
When Marshall turned around Hearst almost told him to leave the White House, not wanting a furious Marshall close. “What?” Gifford asked because he still had no fear of Marshall.
“The five cruise ships that were inbound should be near the coast but aren’t. We lost contact with an Independence class ship forty-six hours ago that was patrolling sixteen miles from the coast, but got no confirmation it was sunk,” Marshall growled. “A high-altitude drone was launched to look for the cruise ships and spotted them heading south being escorted by a Republic carrier battle group with the ship we lost contact with. Eleven minutes after the drone spotted the fleet, it was shot down.”
“Oh shit,” Hearst moaned.
Realizing the implications of this next attack, Gifford was right on ‘monumental’ problems the Sin Eaters caused them. “Colonel, do you think the Republic will tighten the noose on the blockade?” Gifford asked, but already knew the reply.
“Sir, if it was Fern, I’m certain the problem wouldn’t have been as bad but with Yassa, I’m positive she’ll declare unrestricted warfare on all vessels nearing our shores,” Marshall stated. “I hate to say this, but I really hope Fern recovers and returns back to office.”
“But you couldn’t have gone out across the Atlantic to fight Reaper!” Hearst cried out.
Marshall turned to Hearst and stopped the curt reply he nearly gave. It was like Hearst thought Reaper wasn’t playing fair, giving Marshall an area where Reaper was on base and couldn’t be tagged. “Hearst, I wouldn’t have gone out to sea looking for the Sin Eaters,” Marshall explained as his head started pounding. “I would’ve sent teams all along the coast and waited until the Sin Eaters returned. No matter where they came ashore, I could’ve had a team there in half an hour. At the very least, I would’ve killed some of them, if not Reaper. And if we kill Reaper, we destroy the Sin Eaters. Without him, they’re just a ragtag unit of killers that we’ll be able to hunt down and kill without his leadership.”
It was very evident Hearst was finding all that hard to believe. “Colonel, I just can’t see why any fighter would tell their opponent where to find them,” Hearst said.
“You’re thinking like an adult,” Marshall said calming down, and was thankful for this conversation. “Notice how Reaper acts like a child with his language and antics? Think of it this way, he’s acting like a kid at school telling another kid to meet him in the parking lot so they can fight. Look how he uses childish language to belittle someone. I can’t even remember how many times Reaper’s stated I have a needle dick.”
Knowing that even attempting to count up those he knew about would piss Marshall off, Hearst kept that to himself but nodded in understanding. Hearst really believed Marshall was underestimating Reaper on many levels. From the way Hearst saw the actions and antics Reaper portrayed taunting Marshall, yes, they were childish but seemed staged. Then Hearst reminded himself that Marshall had been doing this a very long time and he was just overthinking.
Finally, Marshall turned to Gifford. “Sir, I’m sorry, but I must pause trying to figure out what Sullivan had at that camp. Let me deal with the Sin Eaters and when this is over, I’ll kill anyone that Sullivan got something from,” Marshall offered and Gifford nodded. As Marshall gathered his things to leave, Hearst was pissed that Gifford had even paused Marshall’s hunt for the Sin Eaters. It was very clear now because Gifford had paused Marshall, Marshall missed a chance to kill some Sin Eaters, maybe even Reaper.
After Marshall was gone, Hearst looked across the desk to Gifford. “Samuel, don’t stop Marshall’s hunt again,” Hearst warned.
Since Hearst was ‘the money man’, Gifford didn’t mind being addressed by his first name. “I’m not, but I really needed to know what the fuck Sullivan had pulled to Maine to use,” Gifford admitted.
Leaning back in his chair and taking a deep breath, “Now, tell me what the hell Blaine Sullivan was doing in Maine,” Hearst said.
Chapter Twelve
How big is the surprise?
Despite the biting cold this first week of December, Viper carefully held the reticle over the figure. From Viper’s right side, “You’re aiming where your target is going to be one point two seconds after you pull the trigger, not where he’s at now,” Odin reminded Viper in a whisper. North of Chattanooga, Tennessee on a step ridge that ran for miles, Viper kept his breathing steady and focused on the beating of his heart. Eight hundred feet below and sixteen hundred yards away in the town of Spring Valley, Viper held the crosshairs over his target as the target headed for the trap. The trap was a staircase between two buildings that led to a basement at a school.
As the target neared the top of the stairs and came to a stop looking down at the bottom of the stairs, Viper eased his finger on the trigger and slowly started pulling. When the rifle buckled Viper gave a startle, but kept his eye on the scope as he brought his hand up to cycle the bolt and feed a new round in the chamber.
Before he seated the bolt, Viper watched the target lurch as the .416 Barrett round impacted, nearly taking the left arm off. Like the other targets at the bottom of the stairs the new target toppled over, going end over end before coming to rest on the other bodies.
“You work the bolt that fast again, Viper, and you’re going to jog back to Hades,” Thor threatened from Viper’s left side.
“Sorry,” Viper breathed and heard Thor’s rifle let off a muffled thump and felt the ground shake from the concussion. Viper was learning long range shooting from the best the Sin Eaters had to offer, Odin and Thor. They had set him up a ‘baby’ gun, a .416 Barrett. Despite the fact the .416 was just a bit smaller than a 50-caliber round and kicked hard, compared to what Odin and Thor were using, it was small. They were using 20mm bolt action rifles. Before becoming a Sin Eater, the biggest gun Viper shot in his past fifteen-year-old life was a .22.
For the last three days, they had been moving around just harassing feds. Anyone not fighting against the feds were considered feds, so they had a target rich environment. Odin and Thor still only let Viper shoot at ‘close’ targets, close being under a mile. Viper had watched yesterday when Odin hit a fed at three thousand, five hundred yards, two point one miles. Watching through a spotting scope Viper had actually thought Odin missed but nearly five seconds after Odin pulled the trigger, the fed soldier’s upper body blew apart.
