Ripper (19 page)

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Authors: David Lynn Golemon

Tags: #Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Science Fiction, #War & Military

BOOK: Ripper
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“What in the hell did we just open up?” Will asked as his light played over tables, glassware, and in one corner of the concrete-lined room, barrels upon barrels of something staked three high.

Collins stepped into the room over the large mound of dirt and sand that had buried the door on both sides. He quickly shut down his flashlight and then gestured for Everett and Mendenhall to do the same.
He placed his hand with fingers curled inward as an order to cease all movement. He was looking up at the high ceiling above their heads. He looked back at the two men who had frozen just inside the door. Above them there was light filtering through small cracks in the wooden planks directly over their heads. Jack tapped his right ear and pointed, and that’s when Carl and Will heard it. It was
the sound of women weeping.

Before Jack could turn and say anything, he flipped on his light once more when his hackles rose. He played the light around the large laboratory, and then the beam slicing through the swirling dust struck upon an even more eerie sight. There a few feet farther into the room was another cave-in. And at the edges of the pile of dirt, sand, and concrete were the remains
of khaki-colored leggings. They were old; possibly turn-of-the-century old. The boots were time worn and brown, and that made Collins aware that they had stumbled into something that the drug kingpin didn’t know about his house south of the border: a secret and long-buried site that had once been a laboratory for an American scientist named Professor Lawrence Jackson Ambrose.

Above their heads
they heard more cries and whimpers from many, many women.

“I have a feeling that we have both, the lady, or ladies,” and as he heard the steps of heavy boots walk directly over their heads, Jack added, “and the tiger.”

“Well,” Everett said easing back the charging handle of his automatic weapon, “I didn’t put on my best suit to stand here looking stupid.”

Jack nodded his head and then started
screwing a suppressor onto his nine millimeter.

“Let’s see what kind of quality help the Anaconda has at his disposal.”

*   *   *

After searching the collapsed areas, a space Everett had dubbed Mr. Wizard’s laboratory, Jack became convinced there may be no way up through the flooring except to blow their way through, which wouldn’t be too stealthy at all. He lowered his suppressed Beretta,
raised the ambient-light goggles, and then wiped the sweat from his brow. He heard Will in the far corner digging at the area where the body lay covered by debris from the one-hundred-year-old collapse of the floor above them.

“Jack, whoever repaired the floor above this one never realized anything was down here. That’s my best guess. They must have covered up any access to this area during their
repairs. Look up there. Half the flooring is wood, and the half closest to the walls is concrete.” Carl swiped at the sweat he had built up in the search.

“Jesus Christ!” Mendenhall hissed as he stumbled backward from where he had been digging out the body.

Jack flinched at the loudness of Mendenhall’s frightened voice.

Will realized his mistake by crying out, but made no apologies as he straightened
up and then placed his hands on his knees. Everett and Collins joined him and then looked around to make sure any extra lighting they put on the scene would not be seen through the cracks in the flooring over their heads. Satisfied, both men added their flashlights to the one Mendenhall had shining on the collapse.

“You tell me just what in the hell that is?” Will said shining his light on a
large lump next to the skeletal remains of the uniformed soldier he had pulled free. He was taking deep breaths in an attempt to get his fear under control. The white coat was in tatters and through the swirling dust they could see a skull that was horribly malformed. The teeth in the grinning skull were long and crooked. But what had frightened Will so much were the thick, long, and beastly looking
arm bones that were exposed through the torn and aged white coat. The eye sockets of the remains were overly large and the mouth that held the long, sharp teeth was the same.

“Whoa,” Everett said, conscious to the fact of keeping his voice low. He held his light on the scene as Collins bent low to inspect Will’s find.

Jack could make out the remains of a beard, the course hair of which was lying
next to the skull. There were bits and pieces of it still clinging to the lower jaw line of the remains. All in all Collins had only seen something like this a few other times and that was because they had remains such as these in the vaults deep inside the Event Group compound in Nevada. They were nearly matching the skeletal remains of what is known as Neanderthal Man. Only this skeleton was
much larger than the small specimens the Group had inside the vaults. He moved his light to the remains of the uniformed skeleton.

“Jack, are you seeing what I see?” Everett said as Will stepped up and joined them, adding his light to theirs.

Indeed Jack was seeing the large teeth marks on the remains of the much smaller skeleton. Through the ragged and aged blouse of the soldier, both arms
had been snapped in two and the teeth marks upon the bone were evident.

“I don’t think a cave-in can explain that,” Collins said as he duckwalked forward and then pulled the upper torso of the remains free of the dirt and sand. He saw something shiny in the flashlight’s beam. “Look at this,” he said as he raised the collar so Will and Carl could see. There was a
U.S.
button on the left collar
and on the epaulet was the emblem Jack recognized immediately. It was a shield with the upper half of a rearing horse. The walking bear on top of the shield gave the unit its identity: “The 8th Cavalry regiment.”

“Then I guess the report from Pete was accurate enough,” Everett said, his eyes not moving from the large bite indentations in the bone of the hundred-year-old remains.

Jack noticed
something in the collapsed debris and reached out and picked it up. It was a large chunk of old concrete. He lifted it to his nose and smelled. He then tossed the small piece to Everett who did the same.

“Dynamite, or something close to it,” Carl said as he found others near the two bodies. As he examined the piece of concrete, he noticed a strap of some kind poking from the remains of the rubble.
He dropped the scorched remains of old flooring and reached down and tugged on the strap. He saw that the old piece of coarse material was starting to rip away so he went to his knees and dug out not only the strap, but a cracked and weathered saddlebag. He saw the
U.S.
marking on the double bag and then opened it up, shining his flashlight inside. His eyes widened as he saw the gleaming, glistening
objects inside. Carl stepped away from Jack and Mendenhall and toward the far wall of the old laboratory. He sat the bag down easily and then stepped away.

“What is it?” Collins asked as he noticed the careful way Carl handled the old saddlebag.

“Oh, about twenty sticks of old dynamite, with enough nitroglycerine sweating out of it to blow this room to bits.”

“That’s the nice thing about dynamite;
it only gets better with age.”

“What do you make of these, Colonel?” Mendenhall said as he stepped over to several of the undamaged wooden barrels. He bent over and with his gloved hand started to pick up some of the fallen contents, but before he could Jack reached out and stayed his hand. Collins just shook his head. “They look like dried flowers,” he said and then saw Jack’s eyes as he took
in barrel upon barrel of the same foul-smelling and fermenting dry goods. Mendenhall was suddenly glad the colonel had stopped him from touching the contents.

“Jack, this stuff, it looks like poppies, but not anything I have ever seen before,” Everett said as he examined more of the sealed barrels.

“Maybe Guzman is producing heroin down here,” Will offered.

“Not unless his great grandfather
was down here making it.” Jack straightened and looked around the large room, only half of which they could see due to the cave-in. His light illuminated a hundred glass jars on shelves that had survived the eruption. Then he moved the light to a small table with many steel syringes upon its top. He was about to comment when there was a loud noise that came through the floorboards from above. Heavy
boots of more than just a few men had entered the basement above them.

“I will ask one last time. Who you work for? My contacts at your front company, Texaco, say they have never heard of you.”

Jack tried to trace the voice but ran into the thickest part of the cave-in. He tracked the sound with his Beretta aimed but knew he could blindly shoot up through the floorboards.

“Then you leave me
no choice. I will leave my brother Eduardo here to ask again. He will not be as polite.”

All three men below the voices heard the men above turn and again vanish up what must have been a set of stairs.

“I have looked forward to this since we took you this afternoon,” the deeper voice said as the sound of keys was heard through the cracks in the wood flooring.

“You’re the son of a bitch that
shot my friend at the excavation site.”

Jack closed his eyes as he heard the female voice. Everett patted Collins on the shoulder and nodded his head. Sarah was alive. The smile immediately left Carl’s face when they heard the keys enter the lock.

“Sí, I shot your friends, just as I am going to start shooting everyone in this cell, starting with the girls you seemed destined to protect.” The
creaking of the cell door opening was heard, and Jack’s face became a set piece of rage just as the screams came from women they could not see.

Jack heard a slap and a grunt and he assumed Sarah had just been struck. Then he heard, “Ah, ever the hero, señor.” They all heard a thud and then a loud grunt.

“Stop it!” came Sarah’s voice.

“That’s the bastard that killed Udall and shot Ryan,” Mendenhall
hissed.

“Quiet Lieutenant,” Everett hissed.

Will stormed off to the far wall where the glass jars of liquid and some of the powders were stored. He felt like striking out and slapping all of them onto the floor.

Collins knew he had to chance it. He holstered his nine millimeter, raised the M-14 carbine, and aimed it at the old wood flooring above, ready to cut his way through. Everett reached
out and placed an old rickety stool beneath the spot where Jack was about to make a brand-new doorway.

“No,” Will said almost not loud enough to stop them.

Collins angrily lowered the weapon and then pointed to a section of the flooring above the stored jars on the shelving against the far wall. Somehow they had missed that area in their recent search. As they looked, Mendenhall was pointing
at a spot that had two missing planks in the flooring. Jack closed his eyes, thankful that Will had found what he had. He nodded. He and Everett went over to the spot and looked up. They could see the ceiling on the floor above. There were no obstacles blocking their sight. They had a way in, and it was far enough away from the cell above to give them the advantage.

“Okay, we move before this
asshole’s friends return. I need a boost,” Collins said looking at Everett, who looked down, not wanting to meet Jack’s eyes.

“Will is the better shot, Jack.” Everett looked from the colonel to the younger lieutenant.

“Besides, that pig shot my friend,” Mendenhall said as he reached out and took Jack’s nine millimeter out of its holster. He handed over his MP-5 and then made sure he had a round
chambered in the Beretta. He also twisted on the large suppressor at the barrel’s tip to make sure it hadn’t worked its way loose since they entered the culvert.

Collins nodded his head as he realized that in the past five years Mendenhall had surpassed him and Everett both at the gun range. The lieutenant was now the best shot he had ever trained.

“Don’t you miss,” Everett said before Jack
could. “Or don’t come back,” said Jack, trying to get Will to relax.

Mendenhall dipped his head and then took a deep breath. “I’ve counted three hanging light fixtures through the cracks in the flooring. Do you think you old guys can take them out through an inch of wood?”

The two men didn’t respond but did give Will a dirty look.

“Good. I’ll wait until it’s dark before I take that slimy prick
out.”

Everett bent to one knee and cupped his hands together. “If you fuck this up, I’ll be the first to tell Ryan you missed the guy who shot him.”

After Will nodded his head, he took a few more breaths and then stepped into the hands of the captain. Then he was up and through the empty space where the planks were missing. Everett quickly scrambled away after making sure Mendenhall didn’t have
to beat a hasty retreat.

“I figure you take out the light here. I’ll get the one closest to the cell, and then we meet to take out the middle one. The darkness should give Will the time and advantage he needs.”

“Right,” Everett said as he raised his M-14 at the gap between the planks above. “Jack, what about the girls in the cell?”

“Everyone goes home tonight.”

Carl nodded his head and then
took up his station as Jack moved to the closest spot he could get, standing right over the hundred-year-old corpses. He looked down at the strange malformed shape of the white-coated man, and he too took his breaths and then aimed as best he could, knowing it would take more than one shot to douse the light above. Just as he aimed he heard more screams from above.

Collins gave Everett the nod
he was waiting for, and a moment later all hell broke loose at Perdition Hacienda.

*   *   *

The brother of Juan Guzman kicked Farbeaux as hard as he could when the Frenchman had once more tried to trip him up. Sarah lashed out with her hand and that was when the man hit her across the bridge of the nose with his automatic, eliciting a round of screams from the teenage girls cowering against
the wall inside the cell. The man smiled and then easily reached out and plucked a young Mexican girl up by her black hair. Sarah swiped blood away from her broken nose and tried to clear her eyes of the tears that had formed. Farbeaux was actually trying to stand and had made it to one knee when the dark eyes of his soon-to-be killer turned and smiled at his feeble attempt. He aimed the automatic
at Henri as the struggling girl in his other hand kicked and screamed.

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