Overrun Page 11

"I want someone monitoring all transmissions,” Tuttle ordered. “Both ours and theirs. Going in and going out. If anyone, and I mean anyone, figures out that was us trying to bomb Beuford, we're going to have widespread panic on our hands. With no means to control it. We'll be fighting just about fucking everybody."

  "Will!" Piper turned away from Tuttle and screamed to his troop commander, William J. Hilbrandt, sitting at a station on the other side of the room. "How long before we can get another unit out?”

  “To Beuford?” Hilbrandt asked in a scream back.

  “Yeah. Anything less than five minutes is not going to be the right answer."

  "We're going to have to go in completely on the ground," the troop commander reported walking towards Tuttle and Piper with a harried expression across his face. "With no air support and from almost right here. The J.G.U. are on full alert for a second wave. We're not going to get another chopper strike team anywhere near there for quite some time. They know we're around, and they’re looking for us. They're going to be firing at anything coming near that area through the sky."

  "Well, get your asses moving toward that city now!" Tuttle barked. "Right fucking now!"

  He stomped from the center of the room and threw himself back into his seat in front of the numerous rows of command screens.

  Piper walked away from him then and left the command room. Hilbrandt went back across the command area to his station.

  After the explosions, the screens had darkened again and were black.

  "Somebody get me some goddamn video of what is going on in Beuford right now,” he barked again. "Hilbrandt…"

  "Team’s ready, General," the troop commander reported. Standing quickly and whipping off his headset, he strode briskly to Tuttle’s chair in front of the screens. “Awaiting word to launch.”

  "Good," Tuttle tore a map of the area from the wall and stretched it across the communication consoles. "I want broadcast towers and com centers neutralized first. Don't take the time to wire the delays. Just get out of there and fire them up as you go. We need this to be all set and done as quickly as possible. Understood?"

  “Yes, sir,” Hilbrandt answered him.

  “Set and done,” Tuttle repeated coolly looking straight into Hilbrandt’s eyes. “No matter the costs to your crew. We could already be looking at a pivotal juncture of this war. Right here. Right now.”

  “Understood, General,” Hilbrandt responded softly and turned away.

  Tuttle was about to turn back to the monitor screens when an out-of-breath communication officer burst through the heavy door of the command room.

  Hilbrandt stopped just before exiting into the darkened hall.

  “What is it?” Tuttle said annoyed at the noise.

  “Sir, we’ve been monitoring holovid traffic ever since troops started occupying the cities. We just intercepted a transmission from someone claiming to be a ranking lieutenant commander of dome military. The transmission source is deep inside Beuford.”

  “Spy?” Tuttle spit dismissively.

  “We don’t think so.”

  “Counter-intel?”

  “Not likely. Not from the way he’s talking.”

  Tuttle didn't speak and looked over at Hilbrandt waiting at the door.

  He claims to be trapped by soldiers inside. Says he’s killed some already. He wants to know what to do. And wants direction on how to get out.”

  "Does he know about the air attack?" Tuttle asked.

  "Don't know, sir. We don't know much. Other than he said he didn’t report back to the domes for the emergency return. He’s deep downtown and says a full occupational force is sealing off the area."

  Tuttle locked eyes with Hilbrandt. Hilbrandt then walked back to his command station and spoke into his headset.

  "Maintain the ground team at a readiness state," Tuttle spoke at Hilbrandt’s back. "But have them hold. We're not yet ready to launch."

  "Sir…," Hilbrandt said turning around. “We don’t have a whole lot of time. We can’t afford much of a delay.”

  “Just have them hold. Route that signal to my office,” Tuttle ordered the communications officer.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Encrypt it third level. We're heading there now."

  Tuttle stood abruptly and turned to leave. He motioned Hilbrandt to follow.

  “It would be better if we can keep our troops out of there,” Tuttle said when they had stepped to the edge of the room. “The longer we can keep people from knowing what is going on, the longer we can contain the spread of rumors and mass panic. Keep them from turning against us until we can get another air assault in.”

  "If he knows what happened already, he’ll be hard to convince to be on our side." Hilbrandt said stuffing some gear he had pulled from his command console into a pouch across his chest. "He won’t be of much use."

  "Let's just hope he isn't dead already," Tuttle replied as they strode through the two mammoth steel doors to the darkened halls outside.

  The now busy communications room bustled frantically in their wake.

  Chapter 12

  "Damn it…" Brandon swore quietly from where he sprawled face first in the dirt.

  The caverns were so completely dark they couldn't see a thing, not even each other while they walked.

  With their arms outstretched in front of them, they had been trying for more than three hours to find their way through the sewer corridors. They darted for the darkest sides of the cavern every time an assault weapon fired overhead. It made their progress quite slow.

  "Brandon?"

  "I'm all right, Mel" he said spitting thick dust from his mouth. "Stay where you are for a second, will ya?"

  Brandon reached behind his legs through the sand and dirt trying to find what caught his feet and caused him to fall. He crawled through the darkness and stood up when his hands found the wall.

  When he hauled himself back to his full height, he wiped at the dust that covered his eyes. As he did, he felt a small sudden rush of warm air across his face. With it came a stale sick odor that almost caused him to vomit.

  He then heard the sound of someone nearby carefully sucking in their breath.

  "Mel?" he asked stepping cautiously back. "Where are you?"

  "You O.K.?" she answered from somewhere behind him.

  Brandon hurled his body through the air at the person hiding in front of him in the darkness. His large hands found the person’s throat and began to squeeze.

  "Brandon!" Mel shrieked. "Brandon what's going on? I can't see you."

  "Don't talk, Mel," he barked. The person he held thrashed around in panic.

  Brandon raised his arms over his head and held his captive by the neck above the ground. The person’s shoes kicked lightly against his shins. Groans and quick gasps for air came from beneath Brandon’s fierce grasp.

  "Please…don't…" a woman’s voice came from the dark. “Please don’t hurt us.”

  Brandon lowered the struggling body back to the ground. But, he did not release his hold.

  "Brandon!" Mel screamed. "There's someone else! There’s someone else! Someone just pushed past me."

  "Besides her?!"

  "Yes!" Mel shrieked frantically again.

  "My kids…,” the woman coughed. “They’re just my kids. Please don’t hurt them.”

  "Mel?"

  There was no answer from the darkness. The only sound was the woman in his hands trying to breathe.

  "Mel?!" Brandon's voice echoed down the passageway.

  "It's alright," Mel's voice was softer now. "I've got them. It's all right. I don’t think there’s anyone else here."

  "They're just my kids," the woman sobbed against his arms. "Please let me go. Don't hurt them."

  Still not quite able to see through the gloom but satisfied there was no longer a threat, Brandon finally let go.

  "Mel?" Brandon’s voice softened slightly.

  "It's all right," Mel's quiet voice came back. "They're just kids, Brandon. It's all ri
ght."

  “Tell them it’s all right,” Brandon said taking a step back from the woman crying in front of him.

  She coughed once and darted away towards the sound of Mel’s voice.

  "They're over here somewhere," Mel said to the woman. "I can't tell exactly where they went. But I heard them just a second ago and felt a hand on my leg. I think they thought I was you."

  "Tell them to come out," Brandon whispered after her.

  "It's all right," the woman did her best not to wheeze. "They’re not going to hurt us. Come back here by me."

  There was no sound.

  "Mel, are they still there?" Brandon asked. He followed the sounds of the woman tripping her way through the dark tunnel to where Mel spoke.

  "I don't know. I can't see anything. They might have just run away. I don’t hear them anymore."

  There was a soft click, and the steady beam of a flashlight broke the gloom.

  Three children huddled on the ground behind Mel. Their arms clutched their knees tightly against their bodies. One of them pointed a flashlight at Mel's back.

  Tears ran in thin trails down each of their cheeks. None of them made a noise.

  "We didn’t run away," one spoke timidly when the woman approached.

  Mel turned around to the sound of the new voice and the source of the light.

  "It's all right," Mel reassured them tears falling from her own eyes.

  She reached out and took the flashlight from the quivering hands of the child sitting at the front of the group. She gave the flashlight to Brandon and then walked back over to them. Silently, she and the woman helped them all to stand.

  Brandon ran the beam of the flashlight along the corridor walls while the children walked along with the woman and huddled about her knees.

  "Have you been to the shelters?” Brandon asked the woman. “Or are you looking for them like us?”

  "We’ve been there," the woman said moving next to him. "There’s a good many of them. And many people in them. We were too afraid to stay. People are starting to say the soldiers are coming underground. I thought it might be better to stay away from these groups. But, there is food if we go back."

  "Let's head back there," Brandon said handing the flashlight to the woman. “At least for now so they can eat.”

  Mel walked over to Brandon. Together they followed the woman down the corridor. The children crowded close behind.

  Mel picked up the smallest one and let him wrap his arms around her neck. Brandon reached down and picked up another of them. The largest child walked at his side.

  They traveled nearly a mile when the woman suddenly stopped and pointed the flashlight at a smooth metal wall. Squinting through the beam, Brandon saw the thin cracks of a doorway.

  Brandon stepped ahead and pressed it slowly in. As a group, they stepped inside to an even darker gloom.

  By the light of the flashlight beam, they saw about fifteen people sitting on crates and plastic benches. One of them stood silently and walked to throw up a large switch on the wall. It made a loud “thump” and then bright light flooded the room.

  Brandon and Mel both squinted for a moment from the sudden glare. When their vision adjusted to the light, they looked around to see mostly children sitting around the room.

  Brandon turned slowly around and eyed up the shelter. About twenty wooden crates lined two of the furthest walls. He walked over to the closest one and pried the lid off while the others in the room quietly watched. Turning it upside down, he dumped the heavy blankets it contained onto the smooth surface of the floor.

  "We think there’s food in that other one," someone offered.

  "C'mon, Mel, let's get these all open," Brandon said over his shoulder. "See what we've got."

  Brandon set the flashlight he still held on one of the benches and moved towards another stack of crates. Within the hour, they had opened them all.

  They found clothes, a sizeable amount of food and other supplies. He figured it was enough for about twice as many people that were there now to stay healthy and alive for a good amount of time.

  In another two hours they had gone through and organized it all. Brandon pushed the last of the empty crates out of the way to a far corner of the room.

  “Mel, I think we need to…," Brandon began when the sound of something heavy banged just outside the door.

  Everyone in the room froze. Someone quickly reached up and snapped the switch that turned off the lights.

  Brandon picked up the flashlight and walked towards the sound.

  "Get the kids behind the crates in the back corner," he hissed through clenched teeth. He moved through the darkness without turning on his light.

  Everyone in the shelter shuffled quietly behind him quickly doing what they were told.

  The pounding came again from outside the door. Someone in the group started to cry.

  Brandon reached out and put his hand on the heavy latch that held it shut. He raised the flashlight over his head and brandished it like a club.

  The noise came again from the corridor outside.

  Brandon slowly released the latch. He took a deep breath and pulled open the massive door.

  When he did, a ragged bloody figure toppled in. Brandon kept the flashlight raised over his head and quietly clicked it on.

  The body sprawled face down and unmoving at his feet. Brandon lowered his arm and bent down slowly. Mel ran up next to him.

  The body was a man covered in dirt, grime and blood. Brandon leaned his head closer to his face. A slow breath and a cough came from the man’s bloody mouth.

  “Keep them back,” Brandon said to Mel and a few people that came up behind him. “Keep the kids back. And get me some blankets from the…”

  He began to roll the body over when someone in the room turned the lights back on.

  A shriek came from Mel’s lips when she recognized the bloody form exhausted, gasping and bleeding on the floor before them.

  "Somebody get the kit!" Brandon screamed quickly stooping down and blinking his eyes against the light.

  * * *

  Kirken pressed his back against the wall for what seemed like an eternity while the man on the small holovid screen spoke.

  He knew once he reestablished contact with those in the dome world the news wouldn’t be good. But nothing in the world would have prepared him for this. Even if he had swallowed every painkiller in the medical pack and been hit hard in the head with a rock, it still wouldn’t have been as mind-numbing as what he had just heard.

  For a moment he didn’t speak. He just let out a loud breath and stared at the stern face of the man on the screen. Mel stood over him doing her best to tend to his wounds.

  "I don't believe this," Kirken finally said faintly.

  He turned sideways and pressed his body further into a corner trying not to be heard by the others in the shelter with him.

  He took a quick glance back at Mel. She was having trouble stopping the steady flow of blood oozing down the side of his face. And when he looked at her, he could tell she could do little to stop the tears that ran down her own.

  He reached for her hand and gently held it. His own eyes glossed over when she lowered her chin to rest on his head. He felt the scared sobs and fearful desperate sorrow that coursed through her body. Her warm tears dripped lightly across the exposed skin of his shoulder.

  The burning desire to just take her, and her alone, and flee into what was held in the night was maddening. He found it harder and harder to push the thought away.

  "This is too much," Kirken spoke to the holovid trying not to choke on the bile lining his throat. "Too much to ask of anyone. Honestly, what can I really do? I can’t believe this is what everything has finally come to."

  The man in front of him didn't answer for a moment. His own disconsolate and fearful eyes studied him from behind the holovid screen.

  "You do it to your utmost best,” Tuttle responded calmly. “That is what we have all been asked. You are in
a targeted area. The whole city. It will be destroyed in less than a day."

  "Not by me," Kirken said softly. “It won’t be done by me.”

  Mel looked away at the others walking about the bunker. She tried to conceal her quiet sobs and the tears that ran down her cheeks.

  "I’m offering an opportunity to get you and your daughter out of there alive,” Tuttle’s voice was somberly dark. “A fighting chance not to be destroyed with it.”

  Kirken felt completely empty. Alone. Like his heart had just died and his head was about to scream.

  “General, I’ve lived with these people. My kids have grown up with them. By my hands this cannot be done.”

  Mel continued to wipe at the wounds seeping down the side of his face. Kirken sensed the effort she put forth not to cry.

  "You can’t think of that now. Things have changed entirely. You have a chance before you, right now. Do what we ask. Don’t think. And you and your family will get out. Your daughter…and your son will survive. It’s more of a chance than anyone in that room is going to get.”

  Mel pressed the last bandage in the kit to Kirken’s face. She kissed him on the forehead and left quietly.

  As she did, she shooed away some curious children who had wandered too close to where Kirken was making the holovid transmission. When they were gone, she turned and looked back. Kirken sat rigid and still while silently listening to the man on the device in front of him.

  "In three hours we’ll send in a stealth craft to drop you weapons and gear,” Tuttle continued. "The airspace around you is practically impenetrable, so we are going to make the drop high up and guide the chutes to you remotely."

  "How can you possibly get us out if you can't even get in yourselves?" Kirken asked looking across the room at Brandon and Mel giving orders to the people organizing the supplies and equipment.

  His soul ached with barrenness. And his mind struggled to fight the rage.

  "Once you begin neutralizing some of the targets, we'll be able to get a chopper in," Tuttle spoke assuredly. "But that won't be possible unless you move first on this and do what we need done."

  "And if I don’t succeed?"

  "We’ll be forced to firebomb it from the air," Tuttle's voice became hard. "Our air assault teams will meet heavy almost irrepressible resistance. We’ll incur great losses to both aircraft and men. But, we’ll keep sending firebomb teams in until that city is completely gone…or we have no one left to fight. The security of Science Dome 15 must be maintained. Regardless of the costs."