MuTerra-kindle (27 page)

“No.”

“Good. If I hear a gun shot, I’ll understand. I’ll be back in a minute.”

The coldness of the conversation was enough to promote cooperative behavior, and Moore did his best to put on a look to add reassurance to Bishop’s last statement. He doubted he could really shoot any of them so he hoped his act was enough. Bishop left the room and walked across the building. He looked to where they had entered and saw the guard still lying on the floor where he had left him. He checked the room to the right first. It was a storage room empty of people. When he went into the door on the left, he ducked his head just in time to keep from being hit with a large wrench. The man was big. Not tall, so much as he was stocky. Bishop was not impressed and he did not have the time to waste. When the man stepped into his next swing, Bishop caught the wrench with his left hand, jarring the man in the process, and grabbed him by his collar with his right. He jerked him off the ground and threw him head over heal. The wind was knocked out of him as he lay groaning on his back. Bishop flipped him over with his foot, and grabbed him by the top of his trouser band carrying him to the center of the facility. He dropped him roughly on the ground and left to bring the others out.

When he had all of them together, including the unconscious security guard, Bishop spoke, “You have two choices. One, you can leave this facility with me, or two, go back inside. Stay where you are if you want to leave, go through that door,” he said pointing to the solid steel door at the end of the facility,” if you want to remain in the mountain. But I’ll tell you this, if you go back in there now, it’ll be a long time before you come out again.”

Still partially stunned at what was taking place, and somewhat fearful of the lunatic standing before them, they all headed for the door leading back inside carrying the unconscious guard with them. Jim Forrest was the last to go.

“I don’t know what you think you are doing here, but when your father finds out…,” he said before being interrupted.

“You tell my father he had better rethink his plans. You might also want to pay attention to something you will likely hear in a short while. Now go,” Bishop said waving his hand indicating their discussion was over.

When the last man went through the door, he fired a round from the handgun into the electronic lock. Moore jumped back, surprised by the noise, and the power to the unit went out while the circuitry burned within letting Bishop know it would be some time before it could be opened again.

―

The two men made their way back to the same office where they had found Jim Forrest. Moore sat at a computer terminal and started searching through the program files until he found what he was looking for. The one concern they had was that even though they were on a closed net, it might have been compartmentalized to the point of limiting access to the communications network to those on the inside. Bishop did not think it was a security issue, and as such, was available on every terminal he
had used in the past, so it should be accessible here as well. It was. Once Moore was confident that he had accomplished what he was there for, Bishop said he had to take care of a few things before he came back to finish what he had started. Moore nodded in understanding without taking his eyes from the screen or uttering a sound.

Bishop returned to the vacant room next to where he had his run-in with the maintenance worker. He went inside, turned on the light, and confirmed what he had suspected. It was a storage area. Aside from personal and office supplies, there were also stacks of munitions. The latter was secured behind a locked cage. He left his metal staff outside of the facility so he had nothing with which to break the padlock securing the cage. He did not think it was wise to shoot it, in such a confined space, so he decided to test himself. He placed the gun in his waistband, grabbed hold of the lock tightly with both hands, and started to twist it. It was not easy but he was able to turn the steel lock until it bent, weakened, and then broke. After one side of the metal ring fractured, he stepped back and kicked at the lock. It was a solid strike, which, in turn, caused the lock to drop to the ground.

He searched until he found what he was looking for; several packages of Semtex 10, detonation cord, and a detonator. He placed these on the counter while looking through each of the individual storage containers. He continued to set aside select boxes and other supplies as he went. When he was satisfied, he moved everything outside of the room.

He took the Semtex and the detonation cord to the mechanical room. He walked toward the mountain itself knowing this is where any service connections originated from to join with their inside source. He found the main gas line, followed it to the wall, and turned the shut off valve to stop the supply. He then looked for, and found, plumber’s tools and fittings. He removed the section of pipe joined to the valve, which extended into the room. When he had it removed, he stuffed some of the Semtex into the pipe. He found an end cap and screwed it on the end of the shut off valve, once again closing the line. He molded the remainder of the Semtex around the outside of gas line. He turned the gas flow back on, placed the detonation cord into the plastic explosive then unrolled the cord as he backed out of the room.

He continued to unroll the cord as he made his way to the two remaining six wheeled vehicles in the building. He put this down and tried to start the first vehicle, but the battery was dead. The second came to life registering power at more than seventy percent. He turned it off and started loading all of the supplies he removed from the storage room. There was a security net laying on the ground, which he used to tie down his load and keep it from falling off. Satisfied with his work, he went back to see how Moore was progressing. “How’s it coming,” he asked when he stepped into the room.

“Up and ready. I don’t know how long it will take them to shut us down, but you should have a few minutes. I didn’t see anyone on there now, only some preprogrammed music playing.”

“Good, it won’t take long.”

“Just sit here,” Moore said offering his seat, “Look here,” he said showing him where the internal camera was, “and talk normally. I opened a picture on your screen so you will see and hear yourself, just like they will. Whatever you say will be recorded into its own file. If they don‘t erase it right away, they can listen to it again whenever they want.”

“Okay,” said Bishop.

“Whenever you’re ready just click the play symbol under the broadcast bar. That will give you access to the net, and initiate the recording,” Moore finished.

Bishop took a deep breath as he collected his thoughts. It was one thing to plan an operation; it was another thing to see it through personally. He had no doubts about what he was going to do. It was a time of closure, mixed with a little revenge. He looked into the monitor, clicked on the mouse, and saw his face appear on the screen while the music, which had been playing, went silent. 

“This is Keith Bishop. Most of you know me, or know who I am. Right now, I am outside in the staging area. The staff, who were here, are now back inside. That was their choice. My wife and I were expelled, by my father, for stumbling across information you should all be made aware of. We found evidence which revealed that our government had the cure for cancer many decades ago. Instead of using this for the good of others, they chose to profit from this heinous disease to further projects like this facility. Enormous amounts of money collected from cancer research, treatment, and testing were siphoned off to make it possible for you all to be alive today. This, obviously, came at a great cost to others. My father was not only aware of this, but was willing to sacrifice the lives of his entire family, including my wife and his unborn grandchild, in an attempt to keep it secret. His goal of a pure society and what he envisions for your future is paramount. I’m here to tell you all that I’m not about to let him succeed. There are survivors out here. You call them MuTerra. I call them people. Many of them are just as normal as the rest of you are. They have fought, and worked, to survive in this harsh reality on the outside. They have earned the right to live just as much, if not more than any of you. What you do in there is your business. I’ll trust you to think on it and do the right thing. But for now, I’m going to have to extend the time it will take you to come back out and move as freely as some of you were. I’d suggest you find some place safe to hide in the next few minutes, and keep away from any gas lines if you value your life.” He clicked on the stop button, which turned off the broadcast of his message and image.

―

The effect on the populace was quiet disbelief. It was a moment before the last part of the transmission registered, and people hurriedly scrambled for their own safety. The effect on his father was another thing altogether. While he had no doubt he would see his son again, he did not envision their meeting like this. He was both impressed, and incensed, at what was happening. It came as such a surprise that he did not even have the time to try to have the message shut down before it finished. Every emotion he was experiencing was short lived as his son’s word proved true.

―

Bishop had Moore drive the vehicle as he held open the double doors. He picked up his staff and laid it in the vehicle. He pointed to the south along the trail made by the other vehicles that left earlier that morning, “Follow the tracks and don’t stop. You’ll know when it’s safe to wait for me.”

“You gonna be alright,” Moore asked a little unsure of what was happening now.

“Yeah, go. I’ll catch up,” Bishop said in way of a command.

Once Moore was at a safe distance, Bishop continued to unroll the detonation cord as he walked away from the building. When he came to the end, he connected the detonator, flipped the cover, and fired the signal without hesitation. As he turned to walk away, the building shuddered as it exploded. Pieces of debris flew in every direction. When Moore looked back, it seemed as though Bishop himself was engulfed in flames, but he kept walking as if untouched. Moore knew he was too close to the explosion not to be affected, but he walked on as if he was not.

Subsequent explosions could be heard but they sounded more distant. Bishop was not sure exactly how much damage was being done inside the mountain, but he knew it would not be pleasant. Any thought of innocents being hurt no longer invaded his mind. There was no such thing as innocence anymore. People made choices, then lived by them. That was it.

****

As they looked through the rubble, and that was all that was left, as there was not one building remaining intact, their curiosity was aroused. There were no bodies, no clothes, and no indications of anything other than the structures themselves. Wallace ordered his men to set up a perimeter. As they were doing so, Cam called out to him, “Hey Sarge, over here.”

Wallace was no longer a sergeant, but even for the many years they lived underground, he was unable to break Cam of the habit of calling him by his former rank. He did not mind it so much now as it seemed appropriate. He walked to the edge of the onetime village and saw where Cam was looking with his weapon at the ready. From the tree line, some few hundred yards out, there came a man walking while waving a white flag. Several other soldiers came near.  

“Keep at the ready but no one fire unless I say so,” Wallace ordered.

When the man was close enough to be heard, he lowered the flag and spoke. “Is your name Wallace?”

Surprised at hearing his name from a complete stranger, Wallace answered, “Yeah. How would you know that?”

“You know someone named Bishop?”

“Keith Bishop,” Wallace asked.

“He never did say his first name. We usually only use one out here ourselves. His was Bishop; said he came from your mountain base.”

“Where is he,” Wallace asked.

“I think that is what we need to talk about. I’d like to speak with you before you destroy anything else we’ve worked so hard on,” Weston said, not unfriendly, but trying to set the tone of the discussion.

He thought it over and decided there was no harm in talking, “Come ahead,” Wallace said.

As he got closer, they could clearly see he was an American. Aside from a full red beard, and well-worn clothing, he looked as normal as they did. When it was obvious to them that he had no weapon on his person, they relaxed noticeably though they remained alert to their surroundings for any surprises.

“My name is Weston,” he said “former Commander United States Navy. I came here with my crew, the crew of a Russian sub, and many others who joined us on the way during the great event, as we call it. About twenty-five percent of our original numbers survived until now. There are a little more than eight hundred of us here. If you insist on murdering us, we’ll have no choice but to defend ourselves. None of you will make it out of here alive. Sure, you’ll kill a lot more of us, than we will you, but you’ll still die. And for what?”

Wallace looked at him, ‘You killed our men. They were here to establish contact with you, and you murdered them.”

“If that is what you heard, I’m afraid you are mistaken. I wouldn’t think someone trying to make contact with us would try to sneak in through a remote part of the valley, one hour after midnight, if it was for the purpose of simply making contact with us.”

Wallace thought that over, and could not deny the logic. They were not briefed on many of the specifics on what unfolded that night. “Get Carson over here,” he ordered. One of the soldiers left to find him. A few moments later they returned.

“Yes sir,” Carson said to Wallace.

“You were here when our guys were killed. Where and what time of day was it?”

“It was late, after midnight. East of here… steep valley, only a single trail down the draw.”

“Alright, go back to what you were doing.”

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, so what now. Do you just expect us to apologize, leave, and call it even,” Wallace asked.

“I’d expect you to take a little time to think about what you are doing. Why do you think you were sent here, to retaliate against us for killing your men? Do you think we are so bold here as to look for more danger than we already face? You think we want to attack our own kind with swords and spears while they have bombs and machine guns?”