Wasteland Rules: Born to Fight (The World After Book 2) (16 page)

   Now Derek understood why everyone wanted this
device. The Collective, Doors really, obviously didn’t want someone to take
control of his empire away from him. Everyone else was probably salivating at
the possibility of gaining control of a ready-made army of mindless warriors
with advanced weapons. Some were just in it for the money to sell the device to
the highest bidder. And here he was stuck right in the middle. He had the
device which everyone wanted, and which everyone was trying to kill him to get.
What should he do with it? A big payoff and ride into the sunset, give it to
someone who could use it wisely, keep it to maintain his ‘invisibility’ from
the Collective, or give it to The Society and let them decide. All the choices
seemed to have a very big downside of really pissing someone off.

   “What do
you
want to do with it?” He
finally asked.

   The doctor and the general shared another one of
their looks. Derek could tell they were deciding if they wanted to
ask him to do
what they really wanted and what his reaction might be. He wondered idly if
there were gas dispensers in this room as well. They hadn’t disarmed him, which
showed a level of trust; but it could also show a level of confidence in some
unseen security system. He still wasn’t sure these guys were on the level,
although Rora seemed to trust them completely. And they could have killed him
while he was unconscious or simply taken the device. But they hadn’t.

   “We would like to shut down the LINC.” Augie
stated simply. “The controlling of humans as drones is an abomination and one
we don’t wish for anyone to suffer from.”

   “The LINC itself is a threat to humanity and its
freedom.” Dr. Banek agreed.

   “Okay, so why don’t we just do that?” Derek
asked.

   Another look was shared. “Well….” Dr. Banek
started.

   “It has to be plugged into the main interface
directly and that interface is in space.” Augie finally answered after a long
pause.

June 20, 2029

Redwood Arsenal in Huntsville, AL

   Tom had been very surprised at how understanding
General Ross had been. He had not asked too many questions after being informed
of the team’s failure to retrieve the device or kill Major Storm. As a matter
of fact he had seemed somewhat unsurprised by the chain of events. He had
ordered the team to retrieve their dead and report to Redwood Arsenal in
Huntsville for debriefing. Any further questions or comments by Tom had been
cut off. The general had insisted it was too risky to discuss it over the comm.

   The team was in a state of low morale as they
flew to Huntsville. This was the first time anyone on the team had been killed
and they were justifiably upset. They were also embarrassed that one man had so
easily handled a team that was supposedly the most elite fighting force in the
world. Tom shared that sentiment. The whole experience had been very humbling
and he vowed that it would not be repeated. He would not underestimate an enemy
again.

  Wu had been unable to figure out what was
preventing their external comms from working and they had simply just come back
online after the Major had left the area. It was very disturbing, to say the
least, that the Major or anyone had the ability to completely disrupt their
communications. Tom had never heard of that happening and it was something he
planned to discuss in detail with the techs once they were in Huntsville.

  When they had touched down, they had been met at
the plane by an entire battalion of armed troops in up-armored Humvees with
machine guns mounted on them. All the guns had been trained on the team as they
disembarked. They had all been disarmed and stripped of armor before being led
into the base. Tom had been separated from the rest and led into an
interrogation room. He had been left to sit there for several hours at the
room’s only furnishings, a table and two chairs.

   He wasn’t handcuffed or otherwise restrained, but
he knew the door was secured without even having to check. This was standard
interrogation technique for the U.S.T.G. for a failed operation. This was more
than a normal debriefing, but less than an interrogation of a hostile
combatant. He wasn’t that worried, his parents were middle level Party members
and he had been unfailingly loyal his entire life. He had done exactly what had
been asked of him. This Major Storm had proven to be as legendary as they said,
and apparently had access to resources unknown to them.

   Finally, General Ross himself had entered the
room and sat down across from Tom. For a few long minutes he just stared at
Tom. Then he ran his hair through his short cropped reddish brown hair and
sighed. He leaned forward and folded his hands in front of him on the table.
Tom wasn’t sure what to make of it, so he just sat quietly while maintaining
eye contact and a blank expression.

   “You failed, Captain.” The general stated.

    It was true so Tom didn’t respond. He would wait
and see what else the general said before he pled his case. One thing he had
learned over the years was that speaking, especially the truth, could get you
in trouble. Better to stay quiet and take his punishment stoically and with
professionalism. So he was stunned at the next comments from the general.

   “It’s not your fault though.” General Ross
continued. “We were not fully aware, I was not fully aware, of the situation
when I dispatched you to Florida.”

   “Sir?” Tom asked in confusion.

   “This is so top secret that only a handful of
people are aware of it, but I’m going to read you in because you need to know
what you are dealing with. Do you understand?” The general asked him.

   “Yes sir.” Tom assured him, only slightly
concerned.

   “Major Derek Storm was, is, a special project by
the tech weenies.” The general informed Tom. “He has been genetically altered
to have superhuman traits.”

   “What? Like he is Superman or something?” Tom
blurted out.

   The general seemed so concerned himself that he
ignored Tom’s outburst and continued. “More or less. He is faster, stronger,
and more durable than a normal man; and he heals quicker too. That is why your
team struggled to contain him, why your men died…I didn’t know until after you
had launched the ambush, and then we couldn’t reach you.”

   “About that sir. What happened? We were left
totally without any backup.” Tom asked.

   “We have no idea Captain. You simply became
inaccessible for a short period of time; almost like you were removed from the
network. Rest assured, we have our best people trying to figure out what
happened. But you have to assume the next time you go after Storm that it will
happen again.” General Ross said.

   “Next time sir?” Tom said with a glimmer of hope.

   “Storm is public enemy number one right now. All
resources available are going to be at your disposal to hunt him down and kill
him and then retrieve the device.” The general informed him.

   “Why don’t we just send several divisions to
storm NASA and take him?” Tom asked, curious.

   The general laughed. “If only it were that
simple. We are not ready for open war with the C.C.A. yet and attacking NASA
would surely trigger that. The NASA complex also has heavy defenses and some
sort of jamming that isn’t allowing any surveillance of the interior of the
complex. So for the time being, we need to restrict our actions to covert
operations to retrieve the device. Your team is still the best we have, and now
you have some experience with the Major and his capabilities. That experience
will make you better the next time around and provide some motivation to
succeed.”

   “How does NASA have such heavy defenses sir?” Tom
asked.

   “We had some traitors in our midst that diverted
military supplies and experimental weapons their way before the Collapse and
outright deserted after. They stole brand new defensive turrets that were
designated for the White House and other high value targets; very powerful with
the latest radars, heavy weapons and missiles, and a very advanced command and
control system. They will eventually get theirs, but for now we have to leave
them alone.” The general declared.

   “What about the device sir, what does it do?” Tom
dared to ask.

   “That’s so need to know they wouldn’t even tell
me…but it is apparently very, very important. The President himself called me
to check on our progress.” General Ross informed him.

  No pressure Tom thought to himself. If he failed,
he would surely be sent to the mines or very possibly publicly executed to send
a message about failure. But if he succeeded, he would reap all sorts of
rewards. But how could he hope to defeat Major Storm if he had so easily
defeated the team the last time around?

   “If we cannot go in and get him, what is your
plan to get him?” Tom asked.

   “We have a pretty good idea of where he is going
to be in a week.” General Ross said with a smirk. “You can kill him, take the
device, and utilize it, all in one fell swoop.”

   Utilize it? Tom asked himself. I think the
general knows more than he is letting on. But pointing that out could be
hazardous to one’s health, so he let it go. Better to follow orders and go
along with the plan. All that mattered would be that they would get revenge on
that murderer, Storm.

   “Where is that sir?” He asked.

   “Olympus Station.” The general declared, watching
Tom carefully for his reaction.

   Tom didn’t disappoint, his eyes widened and his
mouth dropped. “But we lost Olympus when the satellites failed.”

   “We didn’t lose it, someone took it.” The general
informed him. “And now we are going to take it back.”

   “Sir?” Tom asked, still caught off guard.

   “You and your team will participate in
abbreviated astronaut training and zero-g combat. You and an additional squad
of Red Berets will be sent up on the XS-2 Prometheus Spaceplane, kindly
developed for us by NASA. It has stealth capability and you will launch after
they do and follow them to the station.” General Ross explained. “We suspect
that they have a way to disable the station’s defenses and you should be able
to stay in their shadow and then board on the other side of the station.”

   “If the station was taken, who controls it? Won’t
they defend it?” Tom asked.

   “The Collective seized control remotely and
vented the atmosphere. Doors then installed himself on the station placing
himself out of our reach. Until now.”  The general replied. “You will be suited
up so that trick won’t work again. You can breach the airlock with charges and
then kill everything on board. Don’t worry about damage, once we have regained
control we will send another team to affect repairs. Any questions Captain?”

   This explained a lot about the mission. Olympus
Station had been the crowning achievement of the space race. American forces
had built it on the opposite side of the planet from the International Space
Station and it was a weapons platform also housing the command and control for
the missile shield. It had been built in pieces, and then the pieces launched
piecemeal into orbit by rockets posing as satellite launches. Then the XS-2 had
launched a mission in secret to assemble it. The world had woken up one morning
to find a new object watching over them. Its supposed loss during the Collapse
had been a major blow to the military. But now they would remedy that and get
revenge at the same time.

   “No sir, just point us at the enemy and we will
kill everything in our path!” Tom responded enthusiastically.

  “Good. Remember Captain, whatever it takes.
Complete the mission or don’t come back.” The general said with a very serious
tone.

June 21, 2029

I-75 South of the Florida-Georgia Border

   Derek pondered the conversation with the two
leaders of The Society and Rora as they drove north towards Atlanta. The
revelation that Doors had transferred himself into a computer on the supposedly
lost Olympus Space Station was mind blowing. Olympus Station had controlled all
of the United States’ space weapons and ground based missile shield. If Doors
was in control of it, he commanded space and the ability to rain destruction
down anywhere on earth. Technically, he could cause massive destruction just by
dropping a satellite on something.

   That hadn’t bothered him so much, but Rora had
implored him to finish what her father had started; to disable the LINC and
prevent the enslavement of mankind by Doors’ robot army. It sounded ridiculous
on its face, but he had to admit that the idea of everyone being turned into a
drone was rather frightening. And he couldn’t deny the existence of the drones
since he had seen them in action. That had still not been enough to make him
give up his huge payday. It was Rora’s insistence that Doors had been
responsible for releasing the crop virus and triggering the Collapse that had
been the convincing argument.

   If it wasn’t for the Collapse, his wife and
daughter would still be alive and he would still be happily employed as a U.S.
Special Forces operator. His friends would still be alive, and he would still
be living in a nice house on a lake. So much had been taken from him by Doors.
It was time for some payback.

   The Voice hadn’t been on board with that though.
Derek had been forced to leave NASA, under heavy guard, to confer with his
patron. Once outside the effects of the jamming device, Derek activated the
phone.

    “I’ve been waiting for your call Major.” The
Voice said gently. “Are you ready to bring me the device now?”

   “There has been a slight change of plans.” Derek
informed him cautiously. “I still need it for one more mission.”

   “What mission is that Major?” The Voice asked,
sounding frustrated.

   “I, uh, need to take it up to Olympus Station.”
Derek told him, expecting an angry backlash.

   “Really.” The Voice asked, almost sarcastically.
“What could you possibly want on a derelict space station?”

   “It’s not derelict.” Derek responded. “Doors
uploaded his consciousness there and is controlling the entire Collective and
all the satellites from the station. We can use the device to shut him down
once and for all.”

   “Then the device itself is useless. How would
that benefit me or my employers?” The Voice replied. “Why would we pay you
then? What is in this for us?”

   “You wouldn’t need the device.” Derek answered.
“With the Collective gone there would be no need to hide. Instead of one person
being invisible with the device, everyone would be free to move around.”

   “Interesting theory.” The Voice replied after a
minute. “Let me check with my employers.”

   After a few minutes the Voice returned. “My
employers find that option acceptable, but there will be no payment. The pardon
is still on the table if you complete the mission.”

   So Derek and Rora, along with a squad of
soldiers, were on their way to pick up the first piece of the plan. They of
course needed a functional space shuttle to reach Olympus Station. But, even
though the NASA complex had once housed one; it was no longer there. The
military had ordered it moved after the revelation of Olympus Station. Dr.
Banek suspected it was because they wanted to control access to space, to make
sure no one else could possibly reach the station.

    The shuttle had been in the process of being
transferred at the beginning of the Collapse. As luck would have it, it was
currently in Atlanta at the Hartsfield-Jackson Airport. Once the busiest
airport in the world, it had become an airplane graveyard of sorts during the
Collapse. Air travel slowed and then more or less ended with the EMP bursts at
the end of the Collapse. The lack of satellites, the unpredictable weather, and
the destruction of most of the air traffic control system made it very
dangerous.

    Many planes were grounded at the airport and
then more were deposited there during the Aftermath. The Voice had confirmed
that the shuttle was parked there along with about four hundred planes of
varying sizes. The airport was believed to have been abandoned following the
chemical attacks on Atlanta.

   Derek, Rora, and the platoon of soldiers had
headed north in two MRAPS along with several technicians in a massive
transporter vehicle necessary to haul the shuttle back. The MRAPs, short for
Mine-Resistant Ambush Protected, were the primary armored vehicles used by the
military to patrol hot spots prior to the Collapse. Both were armed with M2 .50
caliber machine guns mounted in remotely operated turrets. The two vehicles
should be sufficient to drive off any raiders or Reapers who happened upon
them. Given that the Reapers had suffered serious losses from their battle
royale outside the NASA complex, it was unlikely they would be a threat.

   The convoy had driven by the remnants of the
Reaper encampment; little remained from the furious battle other than scorched
earth and pieces of scrap. All the bodies had been removed, likely for food;
and all the vehicles and other gear had been thoroughly scavenged before the
Reapers had retreated. It was almost as if they had never been there. Derek
shook his head sadly as they passed by.

   The accidental creation of the Reapers would
always be his greatest regret, but now they were heading towards his second
greatest regret; the attack of Atlanta that had followed from the U.S.T.G.
betrayal of the Republic of Georgia troops. His superiors at the time had seen
nothing wrong with gassing the population of the city. They had used nerve gas
and other chemical weapons to remove a possible threat to U.S.T.G supremacy.
Ninety five percent of the population had been killed including his parents.

   The city had remained pretty much dead for years
until the worst of the chemical weapons effects had degraded away. Scavengers
and others moved into the city looking for possible loot and shelter, but they
found a very active population of Drinkers instead. Atlanta was considered a
hotbed for Drinker activity; and until their discovery at Zinc, it was believed
to be the birthplace of the monsters. Fortunately, the airport was on the
outskirts and right off of the major highways; so they were unlikely to
encounter many Drinkers. The Drinker presence and the lack of loot or victims
also kept it from being a good hunting ground for the raiders or the Reapers,
so they were unlikely to encounter either of them as well.

   There wasn’t much of value in Atlanta anymore and
hardly anyone lived nearby. Derek hoped they could swing in, grab the shuttle,
and be out before anyone noticed their presence. They traveled inland through
Orlando, which was devoid of people. It had been ravaged by the Reapers before
they had moved back north and no one had bothered to reclaim it. It was eerily
silent as they passed through; its buildings burned out or in disrepair and
weeds choking everything. In the far distance he could see the partially
collapsed Epcot Dome in the once great Disney World.

   As a child they had gone there for a family
vacation and Derek had loved it. His father had complained it was too
expensive, so they had never gone back. But Derek still had fond memories of
the trip. He had planned on taking his family there when he had been on leave,
but he had never found time. Now, it was too late; and the ruins of the theme
park were just another symbol of what they had lost in the Collapse and
Aftermath.

   The highways were clear and in decent shape so
they made good time. They didn’t encounter any threats, but the Tallahassee
Defense Force shadowed them for a little while. Once it was obvious the convoy
was heading north, they dropped off. Derek was a little surprised the U.S.T.G.
military hadn’t made an appearance, but he wasn’t going to cry about it. It was
nice to have a break from running and fighting for a little bit. He refrained
from any real conversation during the trip, but he noticed Rora in deep
conversation with one of the soldiers. It was a young private he had noticed
her talking to several times when they were at the complex. They were sitting
close together and she kept giggling.

    The soldier wasn’t much older than her and
looked like he barely shaved. But he seemed nice and he was very respectful
whenever Derek had approached them. The boy did seem to get a guilty look and
run away whenever Derek showed up, but Rora had assured him that nothing was
going on. That was probably untrue and Derek’s presence was ruining whatever
was going on since the boy was obviously afraid of him. It was understandable,
he was Rora’s de facto father figure; and even the older soldiers seemed in awe
of him at times. The captain in charge of this mission was constantly deferring
to Derek as if he was in charge.

   It was good for her to have some companionship,
being alone sucked. But having friends or especially lovers was very difficult
before the Collapse, and it was ten times harder now. You never knew when you
might have to pick between them and survival, or whether they might be forced
to choose survival over you. The World After was a very harsh place and losing
friends didn’t make it any easier. But he decided not to intervene, she was old
enough to live her own life and learn her own lessons.

   After a roughly six hour drive, they arrived at
the airport. The security fence topped with razor wire that surrounded the area
was still intact. But within it someone had piled junk and debris to create an
eight foot high wall that surrounded the airplane graveyard. Derek left the
convoy and scouted around. He found the rest of the airport seemingly deserted.
Other than an abundance of cobwebs the terminal areas looked just like they had
the day the bombs had dropped. The chemical weapons had killed quickly without
leaving any collateral damage. That had been a deliberate move by the U.S.T.G.
as they planned on reclaiming Atlanta at some point in the future. There were
no bodies though, which could indicate possible Drinker activity.

    After an hour or so, he discovered no signs of
life; Drinker or otherwise. So he made his way back to the convoy to report. He
climbed inside the lead MRAP with the captain to discuss the situation. As he
entered he could tell everyone was nervous except Rora and they were all
clutching their weapons very tightly. For many of them, it was their first real
combat mission.

   “It looks all clear.” He reported. “But there is
only one entrance to the airplane graveyard which makes me nervous. It would be
the perfect place for a trap. However, there are no signs of life anywhere in
the area. I can’t see inside the graveyard area too well, but it appears to be
clear.”

   “We go in then?” The captain asked.

   “Let’s leave one MRAP at the entrance to prevent
anyone from sealing it and we will take the other MRAP and the transporter in
to get the shuttle.” Derek replied.

  “Roger that.” The captain said, and began issuing
orders.

   The lead MRAP entered the graveyard with the
transporter right behind. The second MRAP took up a position facing outward to
guard their flank. As they entered into the graveyard, Derek was struck by the
fact that all the planes seemed clear of weeds and were in fairly good condition.
At some point in the past, someone was taking care of them. Still there were no
signs of life and the Voice had performed some sort of sensor sweep and
declared it devoid of any heat signatures. He was sure someone had been living
here recently, but they seemed to be gone.

   The planes were mostly commercial jets of varying
sizes parked in neat rows. But junk and spare parts were piled all around and
created blockages they had to maneuver around to reach the shuttle. The shuttle
was parked almost at the far end of the area, which was probably five acres in
size. It rested in an open area with few other planes nearby. The ubiquitous
piles of junk were here but looked to have been moved away from the shuttle
recently. Something just didn’t feel right to Derek.

   As they all got out and moved towards the
shuttle, Derek called the Voice one more time. “Hey, do another sweep of the
area. This feels wrong somehow.”

  “Doing it now.” The Voice replied smoothly.
“Major, I cannot sweep the area. An unknown energy source is causing
interference.”

   “Where is the energy source?” Derek asked
quickly, hoping he was wrong.

   “Right on top of you.” Came the unfortunately
expected answer.