Silent Assassin (15 page)

C
HAPTER
31

 

T
he helicopter sped along over black water, with Diesel in the pilot’s seat and Morgan riding shotgun, with Rogue, Spartan, and Bishop taking up three of the five seats in the back. The chopper was a Sikorsky SH-60 Seahawk. Cousin to the Black Hawk helicopter, the Seahawk was a multipurpose military aircraft. Morgan had flown them before, and he recognized the displays and controls in front of him, but Diesel was the better pilot, so Morgan let him take care of the flying. Bloch briefed them over the comm as they glided over the black water, toward the distant lights at Montauk Point.

“It’s an underground facility, in every sense of the word,” she said. “It’s top secret, with only very, very few high-clearance personnel who know about it.”

“How come you know so much about it?” asked Spartan.

Bloch ignored the question. “It’s also literally underground, with the entrance at the old Camp Hero naval base. Shepard’s working on getting maps and floor plans. There’s a possibility that you’ll need to blow some doors open. Diesel, do you have explosives in your pack?”

“Never leave home without them,” said Diesel.

“Good,” said Bloch. “Have them at the ready.”

“What are we going to find there?” asked Morgan.

“Activities in the base involve advanced research,” said Bloch. “Any information beyond that is above all of your pay grades.”

“Oh, great,” said Spartan. “Chemical weapons?”

“That’s classified.”

“Bloch, we need to know what we’re up against here,” said Morgan.

“My hands are tied, Cobra,” she said.

“What if one of us dies because your hands are tied?”

“The outside door to the base is steel and fifteen inches thick,” she continued right past his question, “which, according to automated security systems, has been breached. That means that the internal security doors have locked down. That’s going to slow down Novokoff and his team, which is good news for us.”

“The hostiles seem to have disabled external communication,” Shepard broke in, “so we don’t have eyes and ears inside as of yet. Diesel, you still have that security bypass in your pack?”

“Got it right here,” he said.

“Good. Install it on the mainframe, and I’ll be able to tap into the facility. The mainframe room is on the first floor down, so that should be the first order of business. Your comms are powerful enough to work up to a hundred feet underground, so we shouldn’t have a problem maintaining contact. Once Diesel gets that device set up, I can clear the way for you.”

They had been approaching land for a few minutes, and now their destination loomed near. Morgan could clearly make out the satellite dish, illuminated in the darkness, like a beacon, a lighthouse giving them their heading. “Coming up on the target,” said Diesel. “Everyone, get ready for a rough landing. We don’t know what we’re going to find down there, but my guess is that it won’t be a welcoming committee.”

Diesel brought them nearer to the clearing around the facility. There were two men in black down there, each with a MAC-10 in his hand. They sent a hail of bullets, and Morgan heard dull metallic
thuds
as the bullets hit the side of the helicopter. A red light began flashing inside, and the chopper bucked. Spartan slid open the side door, and a violent gust of wind filled the helicopter. They began to shoot off the side of the chopper. The men ran for cover.

“Bringing her down now!” shouted Diesel. The chopper descended, heaving and bucking, and finally touched the ground.

“Move out!” shouted Bishop. They streamed out of the side as Morgan and Diesel kicked open their respective doors.

“Got visual, in the tree line,” said Rogue.

“Cobra, Diesel, flank,” said Bishop. “Rogue, see if you can get a visual on them. Spartan, cover fire.”

Morgan ran to the right of the chopper while Spartan shot a hail of bullets toward the trees. There was return fire, and Morgan heard a bullet buzz right past his ear.

Morgan heard a single gunshot that he identified as coming from Rogue’s H&K, and one of Novokoff’s men tumbled to the ground. The other ran and disappeared into the trees. A few moments later, Morgan reached the tree line. He took cover behind the trunk of a tree, then cautiously looked around. The darkness and the foliage provided plenty of cover—and if the man wasn’t visible, then neither was Morgan. He skulked closer to where the man had disappeared. And then he heard a twig snap, no more than a few feet ahead of him.

He got behind a tree and held his breath. The man hadn’t seen him. Morgan could hear him breathing, scared. He was walking in Morgan’s direction. He waited, and then, when the man was mere feet away, Morgan emerged and fired.

Click
. Jammed.

Just as the man, wide-eyed, began to raise his MAC-10 to shoot, Morgan smashed the Uzi into his face, then brought his foot down on the back of the man’s knee. The man fell to his knees. With a quick, fluid move, Morgan pulled his knife from his boot and drove it into the man’s neck. He gurgled, and blood welled from his mouth, as he fell face first on the ground.

“All clear,” he said. The Zeta tac team made their way over, and Diesel knelt down and examined the communication device in the man’s ear. “These are limited range,” he said. “They won’t reach Novokoff if he’s underground.”

“That means he won’t know we’re coming,” said Bishop. “We’ll have a chance to sneak up on them.”

“Let’s move on, then,” said Morgan. “The facility’s waiting for us. And this time, let’s catch the bastard.”

C
HAPTER
32

 

L
ed by Bishop, Morgan, along with Rogue, Diesel, and Spartan, made his way inside the abandoned building that held the gigantic radar array. Inside, it was mostly a rundown, abandoned concrete building, with crumbling walls and a cracked ceiling, vines and grasses slowly intruding to reclaim the space for nature. Everything was perfectly normal except for an enormous hatch on the ground, its metal cover large enough to hold a car, hanging open and exposing a wide stairwell that descended into gloom. The Zeta tactical team went down the stairs and through a short corridor to find a thick steel door, which looked like it led to a walk-in bank safe, melted right off its hinges with explosives. Morgan could still detect the pungent scent of gunpowder lingering in the air. On his right he saw a complicated console that was undoubtedly used for identification, now laughably superfluous. The gaping entrance where the door used to be revealed a small atrium with flashing fluorescent lights and two doors. One led to the elevator, and was marked as such. Another had a symbol that indicated that there were stairs.

The elevator call button and the door to the stairwell each had a key-card reader next to it. Diesel pulled out from his pack a piece of equipment that consisted of a magnetic key card attached by wires to some kind of transmitter. He inserted the key-card end into the slot next to the stairwell.

“All right, Shep,” said Diesel, “we’re connected.”

“Opening . . .” he said. Some fifteen seconds elapsed. There was a buzz, and the light next to the key card went red. “Weird.” After a few moments, there was another buzz, and the light flashed red again.

“There’s some kind of block on the other side,” said Shepard. “Hardwired. Novokoff had someone who knew what he was doing. I can’t get you in through that door.”

“Does that mean we’re stuck?” asked Bishop.

“Maybe not,” said Shepard. “Diesel, try the elevator door.”

Diesel inserted the device into the elevator door slot.

“I get the feeling the elevator won’t be working,” said Morgan.

Then there was a buzz. This time, the light flashed green, and the elevator doors slid open. In front of them was the deep dark shaft, lifeless except for faint noises of footsteps reverberating from below.

“Tell me why we aren’t waiting for them up here,” said Morgan. “There’s only one way out. We can ambush them right here and have a much better chance of taking them all out and all making it out alive.” Spartan gave him a look as if she agreed, but said nothing.

“There may be survivors,” said Bloch. “There are few who know the details of what happens in this facility, and it is likely no one on the outside knows anything in any kind of detail. We are going to need survivors to help preserve the knowledge of things inside this facility.”

“Just what the hell haven’t you told us about what’s down there, Bloch?” Morgan demanded.

“Cobra,” said Bishop. “This is not the time to dispute orders. We do what we’re told, and that’s the end of it. Get your ass in position. We’re going in.”

Spartan, who had been securing the rope to a sturdy exposed pipe a little ways up the stairs, was now in position. She was the first to rappel down.

“Okay,” said Shepard through the comm to the whole team. “Remember, the mainframe will be on the first floor down. Get in there and patch me in.”

Morgan took the rear. He waited as the others dropped down, keeping an eye on the stairway to the surface while clutching his Uzi. After Bishop disappeared into the shaft, he waited for the double pull to the rope that indicated that he had been disengaged. Morgan strapped it to himself and eased himself into the shaft. It smelled musty and chemical all at once. From the depths of the elevator shaft, straining his ears, he heard a muffled inhuman shriek reverberating upward.

Morgan reached the door onto the first level underground and swung out onto the ground. The first thing he noticed was broken glass clinking and crunching under his feet. On the floor were the corpses of two facility guards, in grey and black. The overhead lights were off, with only the scant fluorescent emergency lights illuminating the cramped underground spaces. From the elevator foyer, there was a short curved hallway with an electronically sealed steel door at one end, and an open one at the other. On the wall right across from the elevator door, Morgan saw a symbol he recognized, and it sent a chill down his spine.
Extreme biohazard
. He could still hear the faint screams down below. What the hell was this place?

The first floor down had its own little atrium with a single door to the stairs, clearly marked that they only went up, not down, and another door to the facility itself. The group had already made its way through that door, except for Rogue, who had waited for Morgan to make it down. They proceeded together, and Morgan found a hallway that stretched to his left, curving inward toward the elevator. There were two doors along the side of the hallway, one toward the center of the curve, marked M
AINTENANCE
, and another outward, marked M
AINFRAME
. At the far end of the hallway was another door, shut tight. The key-card reader next to it had been opened, and loose wires hung from a hole in the wall.

“All clear,” said Spartan, from down the hall.

“All right,” said Bishop, then emerging from the maintenance door. “Rogue, take the rear. “

Diesel examined the gutted panel. “There’ll be no getting this one open from this side,” he said. “It’s shot to hell.”

“To be expected,” said Shepard over the comm. “Don’t bother blowing it. Use your explosives to get to that mainframe. Once you’ve patched me in, I’ll get it open remotely.”

Diesel examined the mainframe door, knocking on it at various parts. It made a solid metallic sound.

“Steel,” he said. “Multiple-bolt locking system. Key-operated, as a fail-safe in case of mainframe failure. I’ve got . . . fourteen bolts, plus we’ve got to consider that those hinges are reinforced steel too.”

“What does that mean?” asked Bishop.

“It means we’re going to need a hell of a lot of explosives.” He began to apply a sticky white paste from something that looked like an oversize tube of toothpaste to certain spots on the edges of the door.

“Be careful with those explosives,” came Shepard’s voice over the comm. “Don’t damage the mainframe.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” said Diesel.

Morgan leaned back against the wall as Diesel worked. He looked at Rogue, who was fidgeting nervously. Morgan sympathized. Waiting in such a high-adrenaline situation was especially excruciating. He looked over at Spartan, but she had perfected the dead-eye approach to danger, one which he imagined she had learned rather early. She knew how much she’d hear if the only
woman
on the team was the one caught being nervous about a risky situation.

“All right, everybody take cover!” said Diesel.

Morgan and the others went around the corner and Diesel pushed a button on his remote detonator. There was a muted burst, and then a loud metallic
thunk
as the door fell to the ground. They all made their way back toward the door, which was now just its jamb on the wall. He saw the smoke that remained from the burst, and the charring around the spots where the plastic explosives had been. As he got closer, Morgan felt chill air coming from the dimly lit, newly opened room. He peered inside and saw a million LED lights, constant or blinking at various intervals, a mass of cables running between terminals or into the wall. The nerve center of the entire facility.

At that moment, Morgan heard the heavy scraping of metal against metal, then a resounding
bong
. Morgan’s ears popped.

“What the hell was that?” asked Rogue.

They ran toward the source of the sound, and found the way to the elevator blocked by a heavy metal door that had apparently dropped down from the ceiling.

“What’s happening?” asked Shepard.

“The doors!” cried Spartan. “The blast doors! We’re shut in!”

Bishop ran to the blast door and examined it. “Diesel, can you blow this open?” he asked.

“A door like this?” said Diesel, looking at it and tapping on its surface. “It would take a hell of a lot more explosive than I have on me. Not a chance.”

“Shep, is there another way out?” asked Spartan.

“No,” he said. “You’re blocked from the stairs too. Just sit tight. Diesel, tap me into the mainframe so I can get those doors open.”

Diesel made for the mainframe room, while the rest of the team spread out along the corridor. As they saw Diesel disappear into the room, there began a low intermittent beep coming from unseen loudspeakers which sounded suspiciously like—

“Is that an alarm?” said Morgan.

“What is that, Shep?” asked Bishop.

“Hold on, hold on! I’m looking through the facility specs.... Let’s see, alarm, alarm—oh. Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh? What the hell do you mean, uh-oh?” said Morgan.

“You guys had better get a move on,” he said, with urgency in his voice. “Diesel, get me into the mainframe!”

Diesel moved forward, bringing his bag with him into the refrigerated room.

“What the hell do you mean, uh-oh?” yelled Morgan.

“Apparently there’s a security system to save the mainframe,” said Shepard. “To prevent any damage to it. If there’s sign of fire in the proximity, the facility locks the doors and—”

“And?”

“Pumps the room full of inert gas. Most probably argon, although I’m not exactly certain.”

“Oh, great,” said Rogue.

“Argon . . . is that poisonous?” asked Spartan.

“No, not exactly poisonous,” said Shepard. “It’s what’s known as a noble gas, which means it won’t react with anything at all. It won’t specifically cause any damage to your bodies. It’s just going to replace all the air in the room and make you suffocate. You should have an estimated . . . three minutes until the oxygen concentration reaches critical levels.”

Bishop, Morgan, Spartan, and Rogue looked at each other, alarmed.

“Keep your heads as high as you can,” said Shepard. “Argon’s heavier than air. It’s going to be concentrated closer to the floor. You can avoid the effects for longer if you’re not as close to the ground. By the same token, getting too low can be fatal.”

Morgan seemed to feel a difference in the air around his feet, although it might just as well have been all in his head.

“Diesel!” cried Spartan. “How about you get that mainframe thing done so that we don’t all die?”

“Working on it!” he said.

“Work faster!”

“Do you want to come in here and do this!” snapped Diesel.

“Anyone else getting a little lightheaded?” asked Rogue. Morgan couldn’t quite tell if it was the tension of the situation, but his arms suddenly felt heavy and his knees weak. His eyelids, too, seemed to want to close on their own.

“All right, I’m in, Diesel,” said Shepard. “Just hold on tight, you guys. I’ll get the argon filtered out in no time and get you proper air in there.”

“Not exactly going anywhere here,” said Morgan, his vision swimming. The others seemed to be losing their balance. To Morgan, it seemed like the whole world looked askew.

“Okay,” said Shepard. “Draining the room of argon now.” When he listened for it, Morgan heard the whir of several exhausts. “I’ve got air being pumped in. You should be able to breathe freely in thirty more seconds, just hold on.”

At that moment, Rogue dropped to his knees. Morgan looked around and saw that Spartan and Bishop were both slumped against the wall. He had to get Rogue up, and the others weren’t alert enough to help. He fought through the haze in his mind and stumbled over to Rogue. He grabbed hold under his armpits and pulled. It was as though Morgan’s arms were completely unresponsive. Everything was so heavy, if only he rested for a second . . .

He steeled himself against those thoughts. They were fatal at a moment like this. With all the strength he could muster, he pulled Rogue to his feet.

“Breathe, damn it, breathe!” Morgan tried to say, but it came out garbled. He could feel his own mouth slow down. He slapped Rogue’s face to wake him. His eyes opened slightly, and he mumbled something incomprehensible, delirious.

Morgan suddenly lost his balance and fell with his side against the wall. His legs seemed to be giving out. The effort of pulling up Rogue had left him winded. He seemed to be sliding down, lower, closer to the ground. Toward death, little by little. If only he could stay up a little longer . . . if only he could—Morgan blacked out.

He woke up with his face against the vinyl floor to the sound of Shepard’s voice in his ear saying, “Come in . . . Bishop, Cobra, Spartan, Diesel, Rogue. Come in, Zeta.” Slowly, Morgan caught his breath, and his mind cleared. Alive. He was alive. The others, Bishop, Spartan, and Rogue, were standing, but still not entirely aware. He heard footsteps coming from behind him. He stumbled to his feet, and saw that Diesel had come out of the mainframe room, his steps still shaky and uncertain. “Diesel here,” he said.

“Report in, Diesel,” said Bloch. “What’s happening””

“They’re here,” came Diesel’s groggy voice. “Cobra’s down, I don’t know, he’s—”

“I’m alive,” said Morgan, his voice husky and slow.

“We’re all alive,” said Bishop. His voice seemed to be clearer than the others’. He extended a hand to Morgan, and helped him to his feet. His legs felt wobbly and still a little numb, but Morgan found that he could stand on his own.

“I’m glad you all made it,” said Bloch, “but now you need to keep moving. You don’t have a lot of time.”

Morgan just wanted to curse at her, but he knew she was right. “Let’s get going. Shepard, what’ve we got? Are you getting that door open for us?”