Dawn of the Mad (5 page)

The colonel sat in front of the data terminal, rapidly scanning the screen, the symbols scrolling both vertically and horizontally across the screen. Captain Cruwell noticed the distinctive fanged dreadwolf tattooed on the colonel’s right shoulder, with the inscription “Eternal—Death Never Dies” below it.

“Please sit down, captain.” The colonel quaffed the small amount of murky rust-colored alcohol remaining in his glass. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No thank you, sir, I do not indulge in spirits,” Captain Cruwell replied. He shifted from one foot to the other. The colonel waved his hand at the second chair. The captain sat down and put his helmet on the table.

The colonel poured two drinks and handed one to the captain. “I do not trust any officer who cannot handle a drink. Please, humor me.”

Captain Cruwell looked at the glass and took a small sip. The liquid burned as it went down his throat, forcing him to cough.

“Thanks,” the captain said.

The colonel managed a weak laugh. “If you are to be my executive officer, I’d like to know your name.”

“Captain Cruwell, sir. Sebastian Cruwell,” he replied weakly.

“Sebastian, this is your first combat drop, is it not?” The colonel took a heavy pull from his glass. Setting the glass back down, he absentmindedly ran his finger inside the rim.

“Yes sir,” the captain replied, his voice tinged with nervousness. “Although I have undergone simulator drops.”

“I thought so. I hope it will not be your last. We will be shipping out in five days. Since you are my XO, I will brief you on the mission as best I can.”

“Yes sir.”

The colonel began to type on the data terminals keyboard. He reached up to a small camera looking device perched on the top of the monitor and adjusted it gently. Satisfied, the colonel pushed a single key on the keyboard and a large holographic image projected itself in the middle of the room, detailing a vast complex.

“This readout is of a research facility deep into fringe space. Enemy concentrations are unknown. We are to strike and recover a weapon the enemy is developing. The supreme chancellor himself drew up the plans for the mission.” The colonel paused to take a drink. “Upon landing, the first element will be led by Sergeant Matthias. He will lead a veteran squad that accompanied me from the front and will assist in training the new troopers in the short time we have here. Matthias’s element will exploit the breach in the blast doors and make entrance inside.” The colonel indicated the doors on the map. The colonel activated another holographic image detailing three more levels of the complex. “Once Level One is secure, you will bring up the second platoon and breach Level Two. Level Two is the main genetics research wing where our objective is supposed to be.” The colonel pointed to a room on the image. “It is critical that you succeed as quickly as possible.”

“What exactly are we after?” Cruwell interjected.

“I do not know, exactly. All I know is that it is a weapon of some sort. The intelligence stops there. Many previous missions have sought so-called ‘secret weapons.’ They all either failed to reach their targets or turned up nothing.” The colonel sighed heavily, “I suspect concentrated resistance there. Captain, make sure you achieve your objective.”

The colonel brought up one more image of Level Three of the complex. The image contained only one large room, with a tunnel that branched off from it, but the image was cut off. “This level is incomplete. I believe it to be a storage facility or a hangar.”

“Is three platoons too much if we are to achieve surprise and remain undetected?” Cruwell asked.

“We are going in with around 40 troopers, the same ones you inspected at formation earlier. These platoons are smaller than usual, but we must be ready if we are opposed by a security force.”

“Is there any intelligence of the resistance to be expected?” Cruwell took another small sip of his drink and this time tolerated it, albeit not much better.

“Stealth satellite imagery has detected very little surface activity on the desert planet, a few small primitive settlements, not much else. However, this plateau the facility is on throws the scanners off the charts. This forest surrounding the facility is teeming with life.”

“What do you mean?” Cruwell asked, slightly confused.

“The latest intelligence reports say that this is mainly a genetic research laboratory. Detailed surface scans show strange and aggressive wildlife and plant life all over the place.” The colonel walked back over to the data terminal and pushed a single key on the keyboard, shutting off the map image. He set his empty glass on the table and picked up a manila envelope, the words “Top Secret - Eyes Only” were stamped in large red letters across the top.

“I received these photographs earlier today.” The colonel pulled out a series of hi-resolution photographs and spread them on the table. The photographs showed strange multi-colored plants, some with an almost flesh like quality as if they more beast than plant. Parts of the facility seemed derelict as vegetation grew over the building and ground alike. An earthmover lay immobilized by thick vines wrapped around its massive tires. One of the images showed a blurry glimpse of a creature standing upright on two legs, its body covered in orange and black fur, yet the arms and head were almost human. Lastly, Cruwell picked up another image, this one showing a long winding rocky trail leading up the plateau from the desert.

“There is only one way in from the planet’s surface. Perhaps the inhabitants couldn’t get out fast enough. There is no telling what else they have in that forest of theirs,” Cruwell said.

“Precisely why this mission will be unlike anything you or I have ever been on. For all we know, this laboratory has indeed been abandoned.” The colonel paused to refill his glass to two fingers and quickly slammed back the contents. He winced slightly from the alcohol burning the back of his throat. He held the empty glass, slowly rotating it with his fingers. “Admiral Raus will get us there and remain on standby in orbit in case we are attacked from space. Fringe space is unpredictable—Raus may run into pirates. Our Dreadnaught warship, with no escort, will be a tempting target. Most of his battle group is still stationed around Elohim Prime. He wants this to be a smash and grab, and he will not risk prolonged exposure in orbit, given that our fleet is not the size it used to be. He will stay in orbit only while the situation is favorable to him. Therefore, we must make haste and retreat off the planet as soon as possible. Otherwise, we will have to rely on the experimental pulse drives retrofitted on the drop pod—something I would rather not do.” He paused, his face beginning flush, and met Captain Cruwell’s eyes. “Do you have any questions?” The colonel set his glass on the table and promptly refilled it.

“No, not at this time.” The captain put down his empty glass as well. He stood up and immediately felt light-headed. He had to grasp the back of the chair to keep his balance.

“Good. Be ready tomorrow to begin training. We will emphasize close quarters combat. Each trooper will be issued a sufficient allotment of grenades and ammunition for live fire exercise.”

The captain saluted and exited the colonel’s quarters slightly dizzy from the drink. A sharp pain began to shoot through the left side of his head.

CHAPTER 4

Long tendrils of clouds snaked their way for miles across the azure sky. A large, brilliant sun radiated high in the sky over the desert planet. A single tear-shaped drop ship rested on the surface in a charred landing crater it had created in the dense vegetation surrounding the laboratory complex. The lone ship spilled its complement of assault troopers from a massive ramp that had dropped to the ground.

Sergeant Matthias’s platoon took point and advanced seventy-five yards, tactically approaching the blast doors of the complex. The twelve troopers took up cover behind equipment crates and thick concrete walls jutting out from the complex. Two troopers carefully placed shaped charges on the blast doors and quickly retreated back into cover.

“All set here, Colonel,” Matthias said via the tactical net. “No activity; this place is as quiet as a tomb.”

Colonel Chuikova and Captain Cruwell walked down the ramp of the drop pod. The last platoon to exit had secured the perimeter around the landing zone. The second platoon had leapfrogged ahead, taking up a concealed position between the LZ and Matthias’s platoon at the entrance of the complex.

The colonel raised the visor on his helmet to the smell of stale, damp air. What he thought from the intelligence reports was a forest actually was a dense jungle. Vines, trees, and oddly shaped flora seemed to react to his troopers’ presence. A low, soft hissing seemed to emanate from all over. Even though the colonel had advanced only twenty-five yards or so, he could only make out the complex through a slight gap in the vegetation. From his vantage point, the complex was overgrown and appeared to have been disused for quite some time.

“Copy that, Sergeant. Prepare your element for entry on my order. 2nd and 3rd platoon are moving into position now.”

“Understood,” Matthias replied. He unslung his slug thrower and racked a shell into the chamber.

Inside the cramped control room of the complex, a smartly dressed officer watched a single computer monitor intently as a technician busily inputted commands via a keyboard. The officer showed the marks of battle experience; a large scar ran down the left side of his face, and he wore a black patch over his left eye.

“Zoom in on the main doors,” he said as the technician quickly brought a live feed image up on the monitor. At least twenty or more heavily armed troopers were taking up assault positions behind whatever cover they could find. “Patch into the satellite. I want to see their landing area.” The technician quickly turned on an overhead video monitor hanging from the ceiling, and within minutes the officer had a bird’s eye view of the plateau.

“Appears to be a single drop pod transport, sir,” the technician said.

“Switch to thermal scan. I want to see how many we are up against.”

Nodding, the technician typed commands on the keyboard, and the view quickly changed. The enemy troopers now showed up as distinct orange and red shapes. Numerous other heat signatures were visible, although they seemed to be maintaining some distance from the LZ.

The officer sighed heavily and stared at the floor. “I suppose it was only a matter of time until we were spotted. Inform Dr. Keitel that we must prep for evacuation immediately and place the facility on maximum alert. Seal the door to the genetics wing.”

As the invading assault force emptied from its drop pod on the surface, an inhuman scream pierced the air in the main genetics laboratory. Three technicians in white lab coats assisted a naked humanoid form in climbing out of a large holding tank filled with a murky green liquid. When the humanoid had reached the floor and stood beside the tank, one of the technicians administered a series of injections into its right shoulder. Numerous electrodes and their wires attached the pale white body to a group of monitors, each recording and displaying vital signs.

An elderly white-coated scientist turned to his much younger assistant, who was busy sabotaging one of the laboratory’s many computer systems with a sledgehammer. “A sight to behold, is it not?”

“It is,” the assistant growled back, “but not a pleasant sight. We will not be able to control this monstrosity. We need more time. Why don’t we just destroy this specimen and evacuate, and try to save as much research as possible instead of destroying it. We can start over at a more secure location, perhaps one closer to the home planet. It was madness leaving us out here.” The assistant resumed his destructive work, sending sparks showering in the air.

“No,” the elderly scientist replied. “This research could turn the tide of the war. I have been subjected to the unfortunate uncertainties of science for too long now. Finally, I have something that works. He will not be terminated. He is all the research we need. Think about the possibilities we have engineered.” The scientist’s voice rose in pitch with each sentence. “We can create a resurrected army of the dead to destroy everything in its path. They can sustain damage that would kill ordinary troopers, orders will be followed without hesitation, and there is an almost endless supply of dead in this war. Just think if we could administer the program on the front. We could instantly raise an army double the size of what we started with by using our dead, their dead, it doesn’t matter.” The elderly scientist strode purposefully to a locked refrigeration unit against the wall. He entered a numeric pass code, pulled on the handle and opened the door. He withdrew a vial filled with a pinkish liquid and turned it side to side, staring at it intently.