 
On Distant Shores

Copyright 2014 Mark Harritt

## Contents

Title Page

Prolog

Chapter One – Then

Chapter Two – Then

Chapter Three – Then

Chapter Four – Then

Chapter Five - Then

Chapter Six – Then

Chapter Seven – Then

Chapter Eight - Now

Chapter Nine – Now

Chapter Ten – Now

Chapter Eleven – Now

Chapter Twelve – Now

Chapter Thirteen – Now

Chapter Fourteen – Now

Chapter Fifteen – Now

Chapter Sixteen – Mayhem

Chapter Seventeen – The New Reality

Chapter Eighteen – A Place to call Home

Epilog – The Past

About the Author

Other books by Mark Harritt

Connect with Mark Harritt

Prolog – The Future

Everett looked at the monstrosity coming through the door on the far side of the room. It was a nightmare, a chimera of hideous proportions. It was every fear, every monster, every hideous dream that had haunted mankind throughout the ages combined into one. It was a beast dragged from the deepest pit of hell. The sight of it, the triangular head, the whipping tentacles, the gigantic talons, made Everett feel like he had lost his sanity. His basal instincts were screaming at him to drop his rifle, to run, to hide, to pray to God for deliverance.

The same hideous coughing scream echoed through the gigantic room. Despite its bulk, the beast moved sinuously, languidly. The head was huge, broad across the top, great spiked teeth in the mouth. Tentacles on the neck whipped around wildly, rippling through shades of red and pink.

The beast looked reptilian, hide studded with thick scales, mottled green, brown and gray, the camouflage of an ambush predator. It looked like some antediluvian, ancient dragon, but its chest and shoulders were broad and deep, with arms used to drag down prey. The body of the monster was twenty feet long, the tail another fifteen feet beyond that. Saliva streamed in ropes from its mouth, trailing along the floor as it came through the elevator door. Nothing he'd ever read or ever seen from Hollywood could ever come close to matching the horror he was witnessing. The chaotic delirium of a madman couldn't even match what Everett saw. Long, wide scars ran across the hide, evidence of past battles. Everett couldn't even begin to imagine what other monsters might be out there to fight this gigantic fiend.

The techs and scientists watched as the elevator doors buckled, the talons and head of the beast appearing through the door. As the screaming monster emerged into the room, scientists and techs fought each other to get through the stairwell door. The group turned from an orderly, although hasty migration into a scrum of flailing bodies. Complete chaos ensued. They were no longer rational human beings. Fear ran through the crowd like a tidal wave. They turned into a mass of herd animals trying to outrun the wolf. The screaming started as the engineering team realized that they were on the front row to a horror movie. One of them kept yelling, "Jesus, Jesus," over and over again. The stench of voided bowels and urine choked the air.

There was nothing the team could do to make people act like rational humans, so they didn't try. How could they, against the horror they were facing. The sound of weapons racking the first cartridge into the chamber sounded eight times, each sound as different as the weapon system being used. There was only the team, plus Lieutenant Pang and three techs to stop the slaughter that was about to happen.

Everett thought about his impending death and turned to Mickey. Everett looked at him, muscled, as big as a house, the huge .50 caliber rifle looking small against his frame, and said, "Mike's really going to be pissed that he missed this."

Mickey had a huge grin. He thought about Mike missing the impending slaughter. Mickey looked back at him, "Yeah, I think he's going to be a little upset."

They both looked at the beast in front of them. Everett watched as its huge fangs flexed in and out if its mouth. Then he noticed its body massing, muscle contracting, the back legs tensing under the body.

"Get ready, here it comes!" he yelled.

\--------------------------------------
Chapter One – Then

The smell of coffee woke him. Sunlight rippled around the edges of the drapes. Mike stretched, rubbed his eyes, and reached out a hand to the other side of the bed. The bed was empty except for him. He rolled over to her side, grabbed her pillow and buried his face into it, breathing in her scent. He put the pillow down and stretched again, then settled back, one arm across his eyes. It was Sunday and he really didn't want to get up just yet. He felt lazy and wished Jo would be lazy with him. He hoped to talk Jo into staying in bed for a little while longer. He heard the door to the bedroom open up. He listened to the quiet footsteps as she came toward the bed.

"Babe, the coffee's on."

Jo was relentless when she made her mind up. He moved his arm and looked at her. She stood there in a small red tank top and pajama pants, neither of which hid her curves. He watched her body move as she leaned against the dresser. The curve of her breasts and hips against the thin material increased his desire. Her belly was still flat, not showing the second trimester yet. Jo was as active as Mike, spending a lot of her time running and doing yoga. He didn't think she would show much even when she was about to deliver their first child. Her hair was still mussed from the night's sleep. He looked at her shoulder length hair, and he could almost feel the softness against his face. His heartbeat increased as he looked at her, but there was a coffee mug in her hand, and it wouldn't be long before she'd be dressed and ready to go.

"Can I talk to you about coming back to bed?" he asked.

"Michael, you promised me," Jo replied. "If you don't get up," she straightened up and paused for dramatic effect, "I'll release the hounds."

He was in trouble. She called him Michael instead of Mike. That meant she was serious.

"You wouldn't really release the hounds?" The question trailed off in the air between them, the "would you" a silent ending to the question.

"All right, since you don't think I'm serious."

He heard the door open, and Jo whistled. Two six-month old Labrador retrievers shot through the door.

She pointed at the bed, "Get daddy up."

The two dogs, both female, were all over the bed, trying to get to any skin that they could lick. He rolled over and looked at Jo. She had that look on her face, tempered by the antics of the dogs, who were extremely excited to play with Mike.

"Okay, okay you win, but I still believe that releasing the hounds is a Geneva Convention violation." This last part was said as he pulled the covers up to keep the dogs off of him. The pups, Moira and Fiona, black and chocolate labs, were still trying to burrow through the covers to get to him.

"Whoa, girl that nose doesn't go there."

One of the dogs found a very sensitive spot of bare skin, and the tongue followed the nose. The covers erupted as Mike tried to get away. "Damn it, woman, it is unfair and unkind to do this to a sleeping man."

Jo blew on the coffee and took a sip as she watched two very happy dogs wrestle around the covers. She knew that, although Mike was complaining, he loved his dogs. The dogs were getting back as much as they were giving. She took pity on Mike, only because she didn't want them to ruin the bed sheets.

"Alright girls let Mike alone. Daddy needs to get up so we can go to Denver."

Jo put the coffee down on the dresser and tried to wrestle the dogs off the bed. Moira and Fiona thought that this was a new and interesting phase of the game. Skin showed through Jo's pajamas as she tried to corral the two, increasing Mike's interest in the events as well. Eventually Jo got the dogs off the bed and out the door. She closed the door behind them. She heard one of the girls whimper, but then the scrabbling of claws on the floor indicated a loss of interest.

Jo picked up her coffee and moved closer to the bed. "Are you getting up today?"

Mike threw the covers off, put his hands behind his head, and turned so that he had a better view of his lovely wife. "Are the hounds gone?"

Jo looked at his lean body, the muscle taut, fully displayed with his arms back. She knew what he was doing, and refused to be drawn in.

"Yep, unless you don't get out of bed," Jo took another sip of coffee.

Chief Warrant Officer Three or CW3 Mike Duggins was a lucky man, and he knew it. There weren't too many good women out there in the United States today who would put up with a man in his career, especially with his particular specialty. He swung his legs over and sat up at the edge of the bed. He reached over, put his hands around her legs and pulled her toward him.

"Careful, you'll spill my coffee," she cautioned.

He kissed her stomach and put his head against it. He knew that it would be months before he could hear the sounds of his baby's heart or feel the baby pushing against his mom's belly. Mike knew the baby was there, though. A warm glow filled his chest as he thought about the child.

" _I hope the baby looks like Jo,"_ he thought.

Whether boy or girl, if they looked like Jo, they would be a beautiful child. He thought about it more and hoped that he would be able to see his wife's green eyes and beautiful smile on the faces of his children.

Jo looked down at her husband and roughed his sandy, blond hair with her non-coffee hand. His hair always turned blond during the summer months as the sun bleached it out. In the winter, it was a light brown. Mike looked up at her. She was amazed that he was thirty-three and still, at times, the expressions on his face would make him look like a little boy. She looked at the scars across his body and knew that she was lucky that the little boy was still around to smile mischievously at her.

Truth was, Jo was the reason that he stayed sane, the faces that he'd never be able to forget receding when he was with her. She was the anchor in his storm. He put his arms around her waist and squeezed softly.

"Whoa, cowboy, you're crushin' the stuffin' out of me. You're going to make me spill my coffee."

He grinned at her as he let the pressure off, "I was hoping to talk you into coming back to bed for a while."

Jo knew that this was going to be his argument against going to Denver that morning. Like any other man, Mike was not a guy that enjoyed shopping, especially for furniture. She'd brought the coffee into the bedroom as a line of defense against this very thing. Still, Mike's wide shoulders, strong arms, and thin waist made her resolve waiver. But she had to be strong for the baby. Or at least that's what she told herself.

She leaned back, and took a swig of the coffee, and tried to keep the thrill that she felt from his touch off of her face. Three years, and they still acted like honeymooners. But not today. Today she was harsh taskmaster, albeit an iron fist in a velvet glove.

"Baby, could you get up and make me an omelet. I haven't had one in a while." She could see the pout starting on his face, and then he sighed and kissed her on the stomach again. Jo moved back as he stood up.

"Okay, Jo, we'll go to Denver today." He headed toward the door of the bedroom. Jo took pity on him, wrapped her hand around his bicep and pulled him in close for a kiss. "Thank you. And Rachael thanks you as well."

He smiled as he turned his head, "you mean Samuel, don't you?" As he walked away, his shorts hung low, showing the top of his ass. Jo stared at his butt and legs and started to reconsider the omelet. Then he scratched it and the mood was gone. He opened the door and the sound of nails on the wooden floor announced the dogs. Fiona came into view, looking up at Mike, hoping that he had a treat in his hand. Mike leaned over to scratch her behind the ears. Fiona's back leg kicked as he found the sweet spot.

As Jo watched the interplay between Mike and Fiona, she thought to herself, "He has that effect on me too. I have an itch I'd like him to scratch. Maybe when we get back from Denver."

A smile came to her lips, "If only he knew how close he came to getting me back in bed."

Mike walked to the kitchen and started pulling utensils, the skillet, and spices out, setting them on the counter next to the stove. Both of the dogs were under foot. They knew that if Mike or Jo were in the kitchen there was a good chance that they might find a treasure that had landed on the floor.

Jo walked up behind him and put her arms around his waist as he looked into the fridge. She laid her head against his back. The dogs were sticking their noses in the cold of the fridge, trying to smell everything that they could get to.

Mike placed his hand over hers, "Hon, where's the butter and cheese?"

Jo reached in and flipped up the cover to the butter holder on the door, "Cheese is in the crisper."

He leaned over to open the crisper. "What's the cheese doing in the crisper?"

He felt Jo's hand smack him on his rear. He stood up with a package of three cheese blend, grabbed the butter out of the holder, and turned to Jo, put his arms over her shoulders, looked into her eyes, and told her, "good answer. Did you plan for me to grab the cheese and get a smack on the ass, or did it just turn out that way?"

Jo smiled. "Serendipitous, I swear."

Mike smiled back. "Well, if you want that omelet, you need to give me some space so that I can get to cooking."

Jo pecked him on the cheek and moved out of the way. She turned and walked to the front of the house. Her voice drifted back to him, "I'm going to get the newspaper."

Mike chuckled, and then replied, "You might want to put a robe on. Mr. Jenkins cross the way might have a coronary if you walk out like that." As he closed the refrigerator door, he used his feet to push the dogs out of the way. They thought that it was a game, because of course, to them, everything was a game. They jumped, darted and yipped at his feet.

Jo's disembodied voice replied, "Serve him right, he's been trying to get a peek at me since we moved in here."

"Hey, just because he's older, doesn't mean that he can't appreciate the ladies."

"Yeah, well, I'm just glad he isn't a little more mobile. I'd never get a chance to get a tan in the back yard."

"Ah, he's harmless. You're probably the hottest thing he's seen in a long while."

"Mike, you said that he was a paratrooper in Vietnam. From what I've seen and have learned about them from our time living in the greater Fayetteville metropolitan area, no paratroopers are ever harmless."

Mike smiled. "You have a point, honey. But he's dangerous to meth addicts and thieves, not to you. The only people that have to worry are the local meth heads looking for something to jack. Unless you're stealing something from him, say anything derogatory about the 82nd Airborne, Special Forces, any paratroopers, or the United States of America, you don't have to worry about First Sergeant Jeremy Jenkins, 10th Special Forces, Retired. Besides, you're a lady, and he treats ladies like royalty."

"What about when he tries to look down my dress?" Jo replied, standing next to him with the paper in her hand. Mike started, not expecting her to sneak up on him like that.

"Damn Jo, don't do that!"

"Do what?" she asked.

"Sneak up on me."

"Are you saying that my scary, terrorist murdering, super-secret operator is scared of me," she asked, eyes wide, trying to look innocent.

The smell of bacon permeated the house as Mike whipped cream into the eggs. There was a, "don't feed me bullshit," look on his face as he stood with the clear bowl cradled in his arm, and the whisk in hand. He dropped a piece of bacon to Moira, and one to Fiona.

Jo noticed. "Mike, I'm never going to be able to train them if you keep feeding them when you cook. Besides, the dogs are going to get fat."

Mike steered the conversation back to the previous point. "First, I don't murder them, I terminate them with extreme prejudice," he stated, ripping off the major motion picture industry. "Second, they deserve exactly what they get, because they, unlike me, are murderous bastards who are willing to kill innocent women and children. And, last, if a man is not trying to get a glimpse of what you conceal in your sweater, he has no pulse and is rapidly turning room temperature."

"Aww, you say the sweetest things. Mike, you're the only one I know that can take military jargon and turn it into a complement."

"Well, that's technically not military jargon, it's a tongue in cheek description of what happens to bad guys when they meet a highly-motivated paratrooper on the battlefield. Or in a perceived safe house in the suburbs."

Jo shook her head, "you're such a geek. Why perceived?" She walked to the table and started to pull the sections of the paper apart. She sat down, and then asked, "what if said man is gay?"

"Which said man?"

"The one that you said should be interested in looking down my shirt. What if he's gay?" she asked, mischievously.

Mike pulled off the last of the bacon, folded the omelet, and replied, "Well, if he's turning room temperature, then he's a dead gay man. If he still has a pulse, any gay man that you meet would instantly wish he was straight."

"Aww, that is so sweet."

"Is it working?" Mike asked.

"No, but it's still sweet that you said it," she tilted her head and smiled at him, returning his no bullshit look back at him.

"Fishing for complements today, are we?" he smiled as he asked.

She sat up and wagged her head from side to side, "maybe."

He replied to the other question, "It is a 'perceived' safe house, because if my team goes in looking for the bad guys, it is a very unsafe place to be. At least for the bad guys."

He kissed her on the top of the head as he finished talking. He placed the omelets on the dishes, setting the bacon next to them. He started moving plates to the table. Jo had been busy while he cooked. There was jam and buttered toast on the table. Cold glasses of milk were set out. The comics section was folded so that Mike could start reading as soon as he sat down. Jo knew him well, Sunday comics before international affairs or politics, and sports last. She like to think of him as her highly motivated, extremely fit, science geek, and his choice in what to read on Sunday morning emphasized this. Both the dogs moved to the table and took up positions to scavenge anything that fell off.

Mike sat her omelet in front of her. She picked up her knife and fork, and, oh so daintily tasted the omelet, then put pepper and salt on it. She started delicately, slowly eating small bits, savoring the food.

He sat down at the table across from her and moved his legs so that they were around hers. They played footsie while they ate. Occasionally a leg would jerk as one of the dogs licked, sniffed, or otherwise tried to start the game again. Every so often, part of a biscuit would make its way under the table.

"Anything interesting in there," she asked.

He nodded his head, "Oh yeah, that Beetle Bailey is plotting against Sarge, and I think he's finally going to get it right this time."

She shook her head, this time with a smile on her face, "You're such a nerd."

With his legs tight around hers, he locked one foot behind the other. He gently pulled her by the upper arm to him and started to kiss her on the cheek.

"Yeah, but you still love me."

She dodged his kiss, "you have a bit of egg on your mouth. Wipe your face."

"I'm trying to, but you keep moving," he smiled as he replied.

"Oh, you're so gross," she stuck out her tongue at him.

"Yum," he replied, as he moved from her cheek to capture her tongue.

She finally relented and allowed him to plant a kiss on her lips. As soon as he moved away, she made a big show of grabbing a napkin and wiping her face.

"What a perv," Jo stated.

Mike nodded his head, "I can be." He smiled a lascivious smile at Jo, "but you do that to me."

Jo smiled and shook her head, "Nothing about that is perverted. That is strictly fun time." She pointed at a story in the newspaper, "and, not you, another perv. Evidently, the new North Korean dear leader likes coke and young girls. And I don't mean Coca-Cola."

"So, you mean he's exactly like his old man. I bet there's some Viagra in that pharmacological cabinet somewhere."

"Evidently, and more than likely." She said to emphasize both points. She stretched, her arms moving toward the ceiling, "I'm going to take a shower."

"You need any help with that," he asked, the innocent, boyish expression on his face again. Jo threw the napkin at him and went into the bedroom. He watched as her butt swung from side to side.

"You're staring at my ass, aren't you?"

He nodded his head, and slowly, but emphatically, stated, "Yes I am."

An exasperated sigh hung in the air. It was a game they played, and one they both enjoyed. She smiled, knowing that he couldn't see her expression and walked toward the bathroom. She played coy, but she loved Mike's attention.

Mike read some international news about the new North Korean Dear Leader who had a fondness for recreational drugs and young girls. The leadership in China seemed to be perturbed about his fondness for young, Chinese girls, and the fact that quite a few of them seemed to be missing from the Chinese side of the border.

After reading that particular bit of news, he folded the paper as he heard the shower start. He picked up the plates and scraped the leftovers, what little there were, into the dogs' dishes. Tails wagged as the food in the dog dishes suddenly seemed a lot more interesting. As the dogs tucked into their food, Mike took the plates to the sink and made sure there was no hardened egg on them before he put them into the dishwasher. He walked to the table and picked up the paper. As he grabbed the papers, he took a good, long look at the picture of the coke head who was now in charge in North Korea. You never know who you'd be staring at through a rifle scope. Then he took the papers and threw them into the trash can.

Mike started whistling as he went into the bathroom. He closed the door, dropped his shorts on the floor, and then he walked to the shower. The mirrors in the bathroom were steaming up. He smiled as he opened up the shower and stepped in.

"Hey!"

A long pause, and then, "We're still going to Denver."

Mike replied, "I never said we weren't."

The bathroom was quiet as the water in the shower kept running.

\--------------------------------------
Chapter Two – Then

"You bought a what?"

"A bassinet."

"What the hell is a bassinet?

"It's like a small crib for new born babies."

The three men walked from Everett's SUV to the compound. Mike loved Fort Carson, surrounded by the mountains in the distance. They'd gone out to lunch and were returning to the office. Master Sergeant Everett Calhoun looked at Staff Sergeant Roberto "Rob" Torres y Torres.

"Rob, I can tell you have never been around a nesting female." Everett was a handsome, fit man, thirty-eight, African American, with Cherokee blood on his mom's side. He had a reddish cast to his tan skin.

Rob flashed the smile that was famous in bars and bedrooms around the local area. The man was a magnet to attractive woman. He could walk into any bar, announce that he was Roberto Torres y Torres in a serious deep voice, and then start making jokes about his mom and dad having the same last name. His easy smile showed bright white teeth against dark skin. His thin waist and wide shoulders cut an imposing figure, combined with the easy grace of a natural dancer when he was on the dance floor. Women's eyes naturally gravitated toward him.

"No, I try to leave that to other men. I avoid the messy part of the biology."

MSG Calhoun looked at SSG Torres. "That's not what I hear. I heard it got pretty messy the other night when that 1st Lieutenant got pissed that you were dancing with his girl."

Rob nodded his head, "Different kind of mess, but, yes, though I did buy him a beer after he went over the couch. He's lucky, I talked to the bouncers and told them that he was a friend of mine, that it was private disagreement. So, they didn't kick his ass on the way out. Plus, with all the blood on his shirt, he had to leave early. After the beer, of course."

Everett smiled at Mike, drawing him into the conversation. "Mike here has a friend that was asking about you. Seems nobody knows the name of the Hispanic male, medium height, 180 pounds, who split the lip of their company XO."

Mike nodded, "Yep, you may want to stay away from 3rd Armored Cav land for a while. There may be a few fellows looking for you after this weekend. Or, if you do go that way, you may want to take D'Inazio with you."

Mike was talking about Sergeant First Class Mickey D'Inazio, the self-styled "Beast of Brooklyn." Most of the team was average build, slim, muscular, but not anything to really stand out in a crowd. It was different with D'Inazio. Irish mother, Italian father, right out of Brooklyn. He had been lifting weights since he was thirteen years old. At six feet, three inches in height, he was a good 240 pounds with very little body fat. He complained about all the running he did for the job, because of the increased carb and protein load he needed to maintain his muscularity. With Mickey in tow, Rob wouldn't need anybody else to watch his back. Plus, D'Inazio was one of the team medics. If a fight broke out, he possessed the skills to patch people up. It was usually the other guy that needed patching, though.

All of the team took their combat skills seriously, but it was not as if Rob went out of his way to get into bar fights. If he was that unstable, he wouldn't be on the team. The bouncers and patrons knew Rob as a fun guy, no real harm in him. It was usually a pissed off boyfriend or potential boyfriend he had to contend with.

MSG Calhoun said, "One of these days, some pissed off male is going to shoot you in the dick."

"You're one to talk, Everett. How many ex-wives do you have, three or four?" Rob asked.

The master sergeant replied, "That would be three ex, and four kids. Plus, I'm always on the lookout for my next ex-wife."

Rob asked, "That is different than me because . . .?"

Everett replied, "Because I believe in holy matrimony, and think that it is a sin to co-habitat without the blessing of God."

"And your priest . . .?" Rob asked.

Mike chuckled, "Rob, Everett is a protestant. He doesn't have to ask forgiveness for his sins from a priest. He goes straight to the source."

"You Protestants are a crafty bunch. I have to get up early on Sunday to go to church, otherwise my priest gives me grief when I'm in confession and adds that to my act of contrition."

Everett nodded in agreement, "Thank the lord for Martin Luther and Henry the 8th."

Rob looked at Mike, "And you and Jo?"

Mike replied, "We're straight up heathens. I find my religion in Jo's arms."

Rob nodded, "Jo is a lovely woman."

Mike smiled, "I'll shoot you in the dick if you come around my house."

Rob shook his head, a hurt look on his face, "No, no it's not like that. Besides, Jo would shoot me in the dick if I came 'round your house, and she'd have a shotgun."

MSG Calhoun said, "And she's a better shot than Mike."

Mike took offence, "Hey! That is just not a nice thing to say."

Rob replied, "Mike, everybody on the team is a better shot than you."

"That's not a bad place to be though. The team is a highly trained, cohesive, killing machine. Civilians are not better shots than me, however. I'm pretty damn deadly on the range," Mike retorted.

MSG Calhoun just shook his head, "What about the civilian target in the tire house?"

"One, just one, in three years on the team. Besides, she had shifty eyes. I think she was a collaborator."

They walked to a non-descript building that didn't stand out from any of the other buildings in the area, two stories high, standard brick military construction. The only difference was the chain link fence with the razor wire on the top. There was a sign stating that the building was a secure area, and that deadly force was authorized. There didn't seem to be any security, until they stepped through the door. Behind the door was a window with thick plexiglass and a revolving plexiglass door. There was no way in unless you presented your ID to the security guards behind the counter.

They showed their IDs, and were buzzed in. Individually, they stepped through the revolving security gate. They started walking down the hallway toward the team room.

The ground floor was filled with the offices of the headquarters staff. The Flight Commander, LTC Bretscif, and his staff were at the front of the building. Normally, in a special operations unit this size, a company size element, there would be a Major as the Flight Commander. Since they were not located close to headquarters at Fort Bragg in North Carolina, it was deemed to be a good idea that the commander was a Lieutenant Colonel to deal with other command officers on Fort Carson.

The individual team offices were at the back of the first floor. Communications, Personnel, and Intel were on the second floor. There was another floor, a basement, which had storage for all of the teams. This was also where supply worked. Extra equipment for operations was kept there, as well as equipment that was used to replace combat and field loss items. The armory, for the storage of weapons and munitions was there and a small shooting range for the armorers and gunsmiths, well ventilated, so that they could tune up the weapons for the operators. There was also a small gym down there.

"But Chief, that's the only one in the past five years that's been shot," Everett replied. "No other team has killed a civilian target."

Rob was enjoying the fact that the pressure was off of him. It didn't matter that Mike shot consistently high scores on the range or in the tire house. What did matter was that his stray bullet creased the head of one of the civilian targets in the tire house. Because of that, until somebody else did it, or worse, shot one of the civilian targets between the eyes, Mike would be labeled as the guy who shot civilians. Everybody knew that it was B.S. of course, but they all enjoyed watching Mike squirm.

Mike threw down the gauntlet, "That's it, we're going to the range today. Pistols, and the loser buys the beer after work."

The guys nodded and said hello to various people they knew as they walked. They arrived at the secure door of the team room, punched in the combination, and walked in. The team room was comprised of five individual rooms. A main room with a few chairs and couches for the team to sit in, with a TV and a regular size refrigerator. There was a smaller room with lockers for all of the team. There was an office for the team leader, Captain Bostak, and Mike, the team Executive Officer, or XO. Everett, as the team sergeant, had his own office with two extra desks in the room so the rest of the team could come in, sit down, and catch up on email and the Intel packets that the Intel section sent out. There was a larger room with equipment lockers for team equipment. The guns and munitions were kept down in the basement in the locked cage area, in a large safe. Normally, in a conventional unit, there was no way that munitions would be held on site. This organization had to be able to stand up for operations within twelve hours. They had special dispensation to keep munitions on site.

SFC D'Inazio and SSG Thomas Milkin were in the team room. Tom was one of the snipers and weapons specialists for the team. He was skinny compared to the rest of the team, as tall as Mike, curly blond hair. He was murder with a long gun. He was famous for the long distances that he could reach out and touch someone with a rifle, either the Barrett .50 caliber or the Desert Tactical SRS .338 Lapua.

The rest of the team was still on leave. The team was comprised of twelve team members. The Team Commander, the XO, and the Team Sergeant comprised the command element. The enlisted positions were two weapons specialists, two explosives specialists, two communications specialists, two medics, and one Intel specialist. MSG Calhoun grew up in Special Forces as a weapons specialist and was trained in an additional military specialty as an explosive's expert. Everybody was crossed trained in each other's specialties.

Currently, this team was on Red Status. The teams, six of them on Fort Carson, operated in Red, Amber, and Green. Red was down time, used for leave, medical and dental appointments, paperwork. It was also used for maintenance on weapons, electronics, and equipment. Med bags and go bags were restocked to ensure that the team was mission capable. It also ensured that the teams got to spend time with their families. Amber was for training status, and green was when the team was actually out on mission. Amber and Green sometimes blurred together, depending on what the operational requirements were. Command tried to keep the Red down time sacrosanct, but it didn't always happen.

Special Operations had the highest divorce rate in the military, especially after 9/11. It was unfortunate that many families couldn't cope with the sacrifices made by the men and women in Spec Ops. Mike prayed every day that he and Jo would be the statistical error that crept by, that they would be the family that made it, hoping that he and Jo would grow old together, watch their children grow up and have kids of their own. He knew that the odds were against them, though.

"Hey, we're going to the gun range, pistols, and the low score buys," Rob announced to Mickey and Tom.

Tom turned to Mike, "He still gets you going about that accidental head shot, doesn't he?"

Mickey, knowing this joke from long experience, joined in, "Look, I agree with Mike, I think she was a collaborator. She had that look on her face. Besides, it was a graze. She would have lived."

Mike nodded, "Exactly what I was saying. She was a collaborator. Plus, after she was grazed by one of the top operators in the world, she would have repented her dirty collaborator ways, and gotten out of the business."

Everett stepped in, "What business is that?"

A chorus of voices replied, "The bad guy business." "The long dirt nap business." "The 'becoming room temperature' business."

Mickey chimed in, "The 'oh shit, Mike shot me' business."

Mike replied, "Screw you guys."

His exasperated reply brought out grins. Mike gave them a one fingered salute, turned and went into his office. He sat down, entered his login and password, and waited for the machine to go through the login procedures.

Mike started going through the emails piled up in his in-box. There were the usual Intel dumps. There were emails from S1, personnel, and a few from S4, logistics. He had an email from Major Salk, the squadron executive officer. He read the email, sighed, stood up and walked back into the team room.

Mickey looked up as Mike walked across the room. Mickey was sitting at a table with open boxes that contained medical supplies. There were three medic bags next to the table, in line for inspection, and one on the table with its supplies laid out. The other three team members were in Everett's office on the computers.

"What's up?" Mickey asked, as Mike walked by.

"I have to go talk to the XO."

Mickey nodded and kept inventorying the medical bag that he was digging through. Every now and then he would pull some medical supplies from one of the boxes on the table in front of him and add it to the bag, swapping it with supplies that were outdated or missing. He did this until he was satisfied that all of the supplies on the printed inventory were, in fact, in the bag.

Mike walked out of the team room into the hallway. People were walking through the hallways, some on personal missions, some with supplies, some just talking or joking as they walked. Someone mentioned North Korea.

" _That's someone else's problem,"_ he thought.

His team operated in South and Central America. They all spoke fluent Spanish, with the help of Rob, who grilled them constantly to ensure that they could nominally blend in. Their Intel sergeant, Sergeant First Class Evans, spoke Arabic and Farsi as well. Their problem set dealt with the growing influence of Hezbollah in the tri-border region of Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay, the nexus of Iran working with Venezuela, and the possibility of missiles being moved from Iran to Venezuela.

Now there was a growing possibility that ISIS might be working south of the border as well. This kept the team busy and made life interesting for them. The possibilities of Hezbollah working with the drug cartels in the Mexican states of Sonora and Chihuahua also increased their workload. It's all fun and games until somebody slips nuclear, biological or chemical weapons in across the southern border for attacks against a major metropolitan area in the United States.

Mike walked to the Squadron command group. SSG Bob Cooper was there with a cast and sling on his arm. SSG Cooper was shot on mission two months ago. He would have been back to work sooner, but the bullet hit bone, and it was taking longer than he appreciated to get back to one hundred percent. His team had deployed on mission without him, and he was doing time in the command group until his arm was one hundred percent.

"Hey Chief, how's it going?" SSG Cooper asked.

"Pretty good. How's the arm feeling today?"

"It's doing okay. Hurts every now and again, but at least I'm vertical," he replied.

"You might want to think about dodging next time. Remember, the first action is, 'Seek Cover.'"

"Well Chief, this isn't exactly dodge ball."

Mike smiled and said, "Well, if you can dodge a bullet, you can dodge a ball."

SSG Cooper shook his head, "you're so lucky that you're married, because most women can't stand that level of geek."

Mike chuckled, "That's nerd to you, brother."

"What are you here for, Chief?" SSG Cooper asked.

"I got a message from the XO to see him. Is he in?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, I think he's still in. Let me check."

SSG Cooper walked back to the office. "Sir, Chief Duggins is here to see you."

Mike heard a muffled reply. SSG Cooper waved him back to the office. As he walked by, he said, "Yeah, go on in Chief, he's waiting for you."

Mike walked back to the XO's office. It was filled with pictures of Major Salk's family and men that the Major had worked with throughout his career. There were small mementoes from the various parts of the world that he had traveled through on assignment. There were a lot of challenge coins displayed on his desk as well. The Major was sitting, looking at paperwork on his desk. Evidently, he was satisfied with what he saw. He put his signature on the paper and set it aside.

"Hey Mike, how's it going?" Major Gary Salk waved Mike into the office and motioned to one of the chairs.

"It's going pretty good, Sir, how are you doing? How's Rose doing?" Mike asked.

"She's doing fairly well. She took the news about her mom pretty hard. Judy was a young woman." CPT Salk replied.

Rose was Major Salk's wife. Her mother passed away suddenly, and she flew home two days ago. Major Salk was going to fly to Minnesota tomorrow to help his wife and her family. He had to wait three extra days because LTC Bretscif, the Squadron Commander, had been at a conference in Washington D.C., and was returning tomorrow.

"How's Jo doing?" Major Salk asked.

Mike nodded, "She's doing great. The first trimester was rough with the morning sickness, but she's doing better now. We have the first ultra sound in two weeks."

Major Salk winced, then sighed, knowing that Mike wouldn't like what he was going to say, "I hate to tell you this, but you may not be there for the ultra sound. I hope the Geek Squad is good for a quick mission."

Salk used that nickname because of their special assignment. Mike's team worked with the Western Zone Nuclear Emergency Support Teams. Technically, they were black ops for the Special Operations Command. His team, and this entire flight, had special skills when compared to the other Spec Ops teams in SOCOM. Captain Bostak had a BS in Physics. SSG Torres had a BS in structural engineering and a member of Mensa. SSG Shawn Phillips, the other explosives expert on the team, had a BS in electronics. Mike had a master's degree in mathematics. Mickey had a BS in biochemistry. Most of the guys on the team scored extremely high on their Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery, or ASVAB. Their scores on the General Test grade were anywhere from 135 to 146, the highest you could get on the GT score. While they couldn't design a nuclear bomb, they had a damn good chance of ensuring that it never went off.

Mike's face didn't show any emotion at the pronouncement that he might not be there for the ultra sound, "We're all doing pretty good. Everybody is itching to get back to work."

Major Salk nodded, "Well, I have a special assignment for your team until everybody gets back off of leave. You guys caught a, 'hey you,' assignment."

"What's up?" Mike asked.

"We have a special request that we think, well, know that only your team can fill." Major Salk replied. "There is a special request that requires a top-secret clearance, Department of Energy clearance, and an infantry background."

Mike's face screwed up at requirements. He came from the infantry, and in fact, joined the infantry because his dad was infantry in Vietnam, his granddad was infantry in World War II and Korea, and he joined because he wanted to fulfill the tradition of his family. He had volunteered for infantry school, airborne school, and the Ranger indoctrination program, or RIP. He spent his first three years in Ranger Battalion, then went to the 82nd Infantry afterwards. But it was a strange request for a job that also included Top Secret and Department of Energy security clearances.

"Your team will need to take everything you would use on a five-man team, to include small arms, sniper rifles, explosives, communications, and medical. You'll also need to take additional ammunition for all weapons systems as normal. I'll send down a list of the small arms and equipment that they were asking about. Once you get to your location, you'll be read on to a special access program, and when you get back," Major Salk was smiling at Mike's growing consternation, "you'll never tell anybody what you did."

"Is this some kind of special mission to kill somebody, or go deep cover and kill somebody?" Mike was stretching out his words, implying 'was there something else he may need to know?'

Major Salk enjoyed his confusion for a moment before letting him off the hook. "Well Mike, I can't tell you everything, and, to be honest, I don't know. I just know that you're not deploying outside the United States, and you're to palletize all of your equipment. You'll be flying by C-12 to Malmstrom Air Force Base. And, you'll be gone a total of three weeks, flying to your destination on Monday, and then flying back in time to start training with your team."

Mike waited to see if there was anything else, then shrugged, "Okay, I don't know what the hell is going on, but mine is not to reason why . . ." He left the words hanging.

Major Salk sat back, and motioned with his hands, palms up. "I wish I could tell you more, but that's all I know. You'll be fully briefed once you get to your destination."

Mike nodded, "March to the sound of the guns."

Major Salk agreed, "Exactly. I'll email the particulars to you, so that your team can get the equipment palletized and ready to go. We have the orders from SOCOM, and I'll include those as well on the email. Since you aren't going outside the United States, you won't need passports or any cover identities."

Major Salk leaned forward and held out his hand, signifying that the quick briefing was over. "I'm sorry about the ultra sound, but Jo should understand."

" _Understand my ass,"_ Mike thought.

Mike stood and gripped the outstretched hand. "Sir, please give Rose our best when you see her. Also, if you could get us the address to the funeral home, the team would like to send flowers. Jo and I would also like to send flowers."

"Thanks, Mike, I'll let her know that you and Jo were thinking about her. And, I'll make sure that you get the address when I get there."

"If you need somebody to check on the house while you're gone, Jo and I can stop by over the weekend," Mike said.

"No, that's okay, we won't be gone long. The funeral is this weekend, and we should be back home by next Tuesday, so I don't see a problem with that. If we get stuck there, we may give you a call."

"Alright, but if you need anything, just let us know," Mike replied.

"Thanks, Mike, I appreciate it."

Mike walked out of Major Salk's office, and nodded at SSG Cooper as he left.

"Remember, dodge, and seek cover. Then you return fire." Mike put emphasis on 'dodge,' 'cover,' and 'then' just to get one more dig at SSG Cooper.

SSG Cooper laughed, "Screw you, asshole."

"That's Chief Warrant asshole, thank you very much."

Mike ducked out of the office before SSG Cooper could throw something at him. Mike walked by First Sergeant Grant, who was watching one of the TVs that had news on twenty-four/seven.

"How's it going, Top?" Mike asked.

The First Sergeant looked at Mike, and said, "One coke addled asshole and the whole world stops turning."

Mike nodded in sympathy, "Assholes tend to do that, especially when they have a nuclear bomb."

The First Sergeant shook his head and walked down the hall. Mike could sympathize. He and his team had multiple headaches whenever the Iranian President came for a visit to Venezuela. It was looking more and more like Iran was willing to use proxies to attack the United States.

Mike thought about the new mission. "Jo is going to be pissed," he thought.

She wanted Mike there for the ultra sound. Mike wanted to be there for the ultra sound. He just hoped she wouldn't take it out on him. He didn't think he would be able to dodge that bullet, though.

Mike continued on to the team room. Rob, Tom and Mickey were stripping weapons and cleaning them, Tom inspecting the weapons to ensure that all the parts were in working order. He was the armorer for the team. If he found a problem that he wasn't able to fix with a spare part, he would take the weapon down to the gunsmiths in the basement to get it fixed. He was also a gunsmith, but regulation required him to use the squadron gunsmiths. The three were working through all the team weapons.

Everett was in his office working on evaluation reports due to the First Sergeant before Friday. The First Sergeant had to review them before Captain Bostak signed them when he got back from leave.

Mike went to his computer, logged on, and read the WARNO for the mission next week. Major Salk wasn't kidding when he said there wasn't much information in the warning order. It just detailed the equipment needed, the information needed to get the pallet on the correct C-12 over at Peterson Air Force Base, and the manifest for his team. Not much to look at. Mike was surprised by the number of weapons and ammunition required. Major Salk was correct about the requirements for Top Secret and Department of Energy security clearances, and an infantry background. It was no wonder that his team had gotten this mission. Strangely, it seemed tailor made for them. He locked the computer, stood up and walked into the main room. Mike started to pick up one of the weapons.

Tom stopped him with a motion from his hand and said, "Nope, that's the finished group. The 'uther uns are the ones you want." Tom's Tennessee country roots showed with his unique pronunciation of 'other ones.'

Mike grabbed an M4, picked a chair at the table, and started field stripping the weapon to check it for any dirt build up. There were several gun cleaning kits and bore snakes on the table to be used on any offending dirt or dust that was found. There was very little dust and no dirt at all. Mike expected no less. The weapons were cleaned before the team went into Red status three months prior.

"So, what's up with the XO?" Rob asked.

"The XO has a mission for us."

Mickey piped up, "Yeah, who do we get to kill? Is it Mexico, Venezuela, or Paraguay?"

Mike shook his head, smiling, "None of the above."

They looked at him, expectant.

"We have a mission in the United States. It requires five guys with TS and DOE clearances, and Infantry backgrounds," Mike stated.

"Is that it? What about weapon systems, communications, targets?" Rob asked.

"Well, all of it, or, all of it for five guys. We just have to have our equipment palletized, then they put us on a C-12, and we fly off to Malmstrom Air Force Base. Once we land, they brief us, read us into a SAP, and then we're on mission for three weeks, and we fly back," Mike replied.

"No papers, passports, operations orders . . .," Tom trailed off.

"Nope, none of that. We stay in country. We don't even need our regular passports."

Everett stepped out of his office, "But we're going to bring them, correct?"

"Hell yeah," Mike replied. "Just 'cause the brass doesn't think it's necessary, doesn't make it so. Plus, something may happen that pulls us off of this job and shifts us back to our primary mission."

Mickey spoke, "Good call, I agree."

Tom nodded, "Better to have it, and not need it . . .," he started.

". . . Than to need it and not have it," Rob finished.

"So, what do you need from us, boss man?" Everett asked.

Mike replied, "Well, I have the list of everything that we need. It's all weapon systems and supplies. Just make sure that we have two medic bags, and you need to have go bags packed, with civilian clothes, and some tactical clothes. It is a three-week trip, with travel, so plan for twenty-one days. I don't want to smell Mickey's dirty underwear on day three."

Mickey snorted in amusement at the comment.

Rob looked at Mickey in all seriousness, "Dude, he ain't kidding. I don't know what you eat, but the gas you pass makes me want to vomit."

Mickey's smile broadened, "Pure protein supplements, my friend."

He launched into a double bicep pump, followed up by extending his left arm and pointing his fingers away from his body in a classic body builder pose. He turned and kissed his bicep.

"If you want quality, you eat quality."

Rob grabbed his crotch, "I have something for you to chow on."

Mickey shook his head with a sad look on his face, "Sorry brother, I need more than a light snack."

Mike laughed and cut off the next foray in the verbal brinksmanship, "I'll email out the list, and I want everybody to review, and ensure that we have everything needed for twenty-one days. Tom, we don't know the mission or target, but we have a list of weapons, ammunition, and we're going to need flash bangs, thermite and fragmentation grenades. Rob," Mike turned to look at him, "make sure we have claymores, five sticks of C4, blasting caps, and det. cord for anything that may crop up."

"It's summer, so we don't need heavy cold weather gear, but even in the summer, it can get cold at night in Montana, so full sleeping bags, and light cold weather gear."

Everett spoke up. "Brother, I never go on a trip without my full sleeping bag. You never know when you're going to risk hypothermia."

Mike nodded, "We have a full pallet on standby, so equipment and some snivel gear is appropriate, make sure you bring the cots, and a couple of boxes of MREs. Who knows, we may get a chance to go to Yellowstone one night."

Mickey looked up, "Man, I've never been there, and I always wanted to go."

Tom asked, "So where the hell are we going?"

"Some Air Force base called Malmstrom," Mike said.

"What the hell is there?"

"341st Space Command, I believe is the host unit for the base."

"Are we doing an infiltration?" Everett asked.

Spec Ops units frequently did infiltration of military bases and secure areas to identify weaknesses in security. This allowed the military base or secure facility security services the capability to review security procedures and revamp them if needed.

"I don't know, Everett. Usually that mission would require a few weeks to prep. We aren't getting enough lead time to go through the entire military decision making process. No mention of going into isolation for mission prep, so I doubt it."

Rob asked, "So what do you think this is about, Chief?"

Mike just shook his head. "I really don't know. This doesn't seem like an infiltration, security review, or any other mission I've been on, so I really don't know what's going on. What about you, Everett?"

Everett was just as stumped as Mike. Between them they had 33 years of special operations experience.

"No, Chief, I can't think of anything that might explain this."

Mike shrugged, "March to the sound of the guns."

The team nodded.

"Boss man, when do you want to get this done?" Everett asked.

"Well, I think we can continue doing our preventative maintenance on the weapons, then prep the ones we need for this mission. I'll get the paperwork started for the munitions for the mission. We need to prep supply so they know we'll be building the pallet tomorrow. I don't want supply to bitch about being blindsided. Then we can just move everything down in the morning and prep the pallet for the flight next Monday. I'll check with transportation to make sure they have us on the manifest going in the right direction. And I think that will be it."

Mike thought, and added, "Just make sure that you have your clothes and tactical gear packed for the pallet tomorrow. We can get on the plane with a carry-on bag each, and that'll make life easier for all of us. A few hours in the air, and hopefully we'll find out what the hell this is all about."

Mike went into the office and started the paperwork for the munitions required. It was a tedious, but necessary part of the process. The supply section, S4, was audited regularly to ensure that there was nothing missing and that all munitions were accounted for. The last thing anybody in Special Operations Command wanted was their munitions sold on the black market. Or worse, used to facilitate a coup in some third world hell hole, and then tracked back to SOC. The paperwork was used to account for any munitions that were drawn from supply.

Even more paperwork was required if anything was ever used. It had to be justified and accounted for, every single bullet, every ounce of explosive. Mike laughed when he heard about black ops budgets that were 'off the books' on TV. SOCOM, to include black ops, was Department of Defense, and DoD was a huge bureaucracy. Bureaucracy thrived on paperwork. Nothing he had ever seen was completely off the books.

Mike completed the paperwork and called the supply office to see if Staff Sergeant Drucker was in. Specialist Winters answered the phone.

"This is supply, Specialist Winters, how may I help you Sir/Ma'am."

"Hello, Specialist Winters, this is Chief Duggins. How are you today?"

Specialist Winters was a young, black man, dark complexion, tall, with the skinny frame that goes with miles of running. He was a good soldier and his enthusiasm for the Army was a real pleasure to be around.

"Sir, I'm doing fine. How may I help you today?" the young soldier inquired.

"I have a special request for munitions, and I need Sergeant Drucker to expedite for me."

"Sir, I'll see if he's in his office," the Specialist stated.

"Roger," Mike replied.

Mike was put on hold, and he couldn't hear anything. A few minutes later and a voice came on the phone.

"Mike, how are you today?"

It was Command Sergeant Major (Retired) Owens, once the 10th Special Forces Group Sergeant Major, and now Mr. Owens, a Government Services rank 11, or GS11. Mr. Owens pulled a few strings with old friends to land a job as the GS supply civilian for the unit. And, since he was a weapons guy from way back, it was a good fit.

"Hey Sergeant Major, how are you doing today?"

"Mike, it's Mister now, you don't have to call me Sergeant Major," Mr. Owens replied.

"Yeah, I know, but you deserve the respect, so I'll probably keep up that habit for a while."

Mr. Owens chuckled, "Mike, Sergeant Drucker isn't here right now. But I can help. When are you bringing down the paperwork for your munitions?"

"Ah, I guess word has gotten around, then," Mike stated.

"Yeah, Major Salk sent me an email detailing what you would need for the mission. When do you need it by?" Mr. Owens asked.

"Well, we're going to palletize it tomorrow. Can you have it ready to go in the morning? I'd like to put the munitions on the bottom. The weight helps stabilize the pallet."

"Yeah, Mike, we can get that together. Some of us may need to stay a little longer today, but that's what young soldiers are for." There was a slight pause, "Isn't that right, Specialist Winters?"

Mike heard a muffled, "Roger that, Sir."

"Mike, don't worry, we'll have it ready to go for you in the morning. Who's coming down with the paperwork?" Mr. Owens asked.

"That would be Rob, Sergeant Major," Mike replied.

Mike could hear the glee in Mr. Owens voice, "Good, I can screw with him about baiting young Lieutenants in the 3rd ACR."

Mike laughed, "Yeah, we've been messing with him about that all day. The only thing he can't figure out, is who the hell told everybody about it."

"Well, I may be old, but I still like to go and drink a beer and talk to the honeys," Mr. Owens replied. "Besides, when your son is one of the bouncers, you hear a lot of things." Mr. Owens changed the topic back to munitions. "When's he coming down?" he asked.

"Sergeant Major, I'll send Rob down to you right now."

"That would be great."

"You have a great day, Sergeant Major."

"Oh, I will. I'll let Specialist Winters do all the heavy lifting."

Mike chuckled and hung up. Mr. Owens was a great guy, but God help you if you screwed up something. Mr. Owens ran the S4 shop with a meticulous attention to detail.

Mike yelled, "Hey Rob, can you come in here please?"

Rob appeared at his door.

"Rob, can you take these papers down to S4?"

Rob reached forward and took the paperwork out of Mike's hand. He looked it over, double checking what Mike had written on the paperwork. Mike waited to see if Rob had any questions. Rob finished and said, "Yeah boss, I can get this down to Sergeant Drucker."

Rob turned and left the office. Mike heard the door to the team room open and shut. Mike got up from his desk and walked into the team room. "How's it going?"

Tom looked up and nodded, "everything here is in good shape. We busted the dust off it. We're going to pack them in the travel cases next and get them down to the armory. I'll make sure that the weapons we need are left up front so we can grab them first thing tomorrow morning."

Mike smiled, knowing that Tom wouldn't ever let any weapon get dusty, "Good work. Tomorrow, I need you and Rob to go down and get the munitions from supply so that we can get it all on the pallet. Sergeant Major will probably have it on the dolly waiting for you with Specialist Winters standing by to push it out for you."

"Roger boss."

Mickey was pulling up travel cases and setting weapons into them, "So, Chief, does the Sergeant Major know about Rob's weekend?"

Mike nodded, "Who do you think told everybody about it. I imagine that young Specialist Winters is about to hear some things that will give him mental images he will never forget, no matter how much he would hope to. That man could out swear a devil in a whore house. Rob is going to get much grief from the Sergeant Major."

People are usually quite unimaginative when describing the act of intimacy between consenting adults, usually resorting to a few, select curses. Mr. Owens possessed the soul of a poet and the tact of a Bedouin goat farmer. He was able to describe the act of coitus in amazing prose which often stunned people into submission when he started. He was such a master at couching his vernacular in subtle, sarcastic terms that many people didn't recognize the insults levied at them. If you were not the target, it was a joy to listen to his mastery of carnal, physical juxtaposition.

Mike jumped in and helped the guys with the cases. Soon everything was prepped and ready to go. Tom secured a dolly to transport the weapons on. Mike, Mickey, and Tom started placing the cases on the dolly.

Everett stepped out of his office and raised his hands up as if he was a soccer referee signaling a goal, "I've completed all NCOERs. I can have a life again without being tied to a computer." NCOERs were the evaluation reviews for sergeants in the Army.

Mike asked, "Really?"

Everett conceded, "Okay, mostly not be tied to a computer."

Once again, Mike asked, "Really?"

"Mike, you're crushing my hopes and dreams here."

Mike, Tom, and Mickey laughed.

"Well, at least you won't have to worry about computers or reports next week. You just have to worry about the after-action report once we're done."

The door opened, and Rob walked into the team room, "Christ, Mike, you could have warned me."

"And, what would be the fun in that?" Mike asked.

Rob shook his head, "I don't think most of that is anatomically possible, though there were a few suggestions that I'd like to talk to Wendy about."

"Who's Wendy?" Everett asked.

"The blond from this weekend. The one that I got in the fight over."

Mickey cocked his head sideways. "You mean you're actually contemplating going out with the same woman twice? You actually remember her name?"

Tom got a concerned look on his face, "Rob, man, you can't do that to me, I live vicariously through you." Tom married his high school sweetheart when he was 19, soon after he joined the Army. He had three young children, and, as he put it, "A sex life measured between the sleep cycles of small children."

Mike asked, "How did Specialist Winters take it?"

Rob shook his head slowly, "Dude, really. He's scarred for life. I didn't know black men could blush like that. At one point, when Mr. Owens was talking about a big girl, a black cat, and a spatula, he actually had to get up and leave the room. I couldn't tell if he was laughing or crying, but I think he was having trouble breathing."

Everyone started laughing. Mr. Owens was always a good education for the younger guys around him. The team was still chuckling as they transported the guns to the armory.

\--------------------------------------

### Chapter Three – Then

"I hate the military," Jo wasn't taking the news about Mike missing the ultra sound well.

"I know," he sympathized.

She pointed at him, "Don't do that."

"Do what?" he asked.

"Patronize me."

He held his hands up, "Not my intent at all."

"And Gary knows about the ultra sound?" she asked.

Mike nodded, "Yes, I mentioned it before he told me about the mission."

"And he still wants to send you?"

Mike nodded, not willing to risk speaking at this moment.

"And there's nobody else he can send?"

Mike nodded, "The other teams are all on mission. We're the only team with people still on leave."

She glared at him, "And you have to go?"

Mike nodded again, "different service, better to have an officer there, and Captain Bostak isn't back from leave yet."

She thought for a moment, "I can call Rose, and have her talk to him."

Mike's eyebrow rose, and he grew very still. He had a warning look in his eyes, "That would not be a good idea at all."

Jo thought a moment longer, then the tension in her body released, and her shoulders dropped in defeat. "So, you'll be gone for three weeks?" she asked.

Mike was at the sink in the island, making sure most of the food was off the dishes before he put them into the dishwasher. Jo was on the other side of the island, facing him.

The atmosphere in the room eased, and he spoke softly, "Yeah, baby, we leave Monday morning and then we'll be back in three weeks." Mike watched Jo mull this over in her mind, knowing he wasn't completely out of the woods yet. Mike worked in silence, knowing that Jo needed time to come to grips with the mission.

Jo walked over and sat at the table, watching Mike prepare the dishes for cleaning. She was very unhappy, but it wasn't Mike's fault that he wouldn't be there for the ultra sound. It was the damn military again. She couldn't wait until he was retired from the Army.

The dogs were outside so that Mike and Jo could enjoy their meals without enduring the sad eyes and searching noses while they ate eggplant lasagna. Vegetable dishes were such a disappointment to the dogs. He scraped food into plastic holders for leftovers on Thursday. There wasn't a lot left of the lasagna. Mike was a good cook, one of the things that attracted Jo to him, that and his sense of humor. She went out with several military guys when she first arrived at Fayetteville and most of them were way too serious about themselves, a little on the arrogant side. Some were a lot on the arrogant side. After some of the egos she ran into, dating Mike, with his self-deprecating humor and easy going personality, had been a breath of fresh air for her.

They went out on a few dates, and then he asked her to come over for dinner. After the beef tenderloin cooked with rosemary and garlic, the cabernet sauvignon from Argentina, and the tiramisu for desert, she was impressed. She didn't want to leave that night, and he didn't want her to leave. When she woke up the next morning after a tender but intense performance the night before, she found that Mike had gotten out of bed and made her a three-cheese omelet. She was in love.

The next few months were amazing, and Mike proposed. He told her that he was leaving for a new assignment at Fort Carson, Colorado, and he couldn't contemplate a life without her. He didn't want to have a long-distance relationship. He wanted her to go with him to Fort Carson. She said yes, even though it had only been three months.

Her family was stunned by the news. Her girlfriends from home were amazed that she was getting married. They all thought that she would be the last one down the aisle, especially after hearing about her experiences with the men around Fort Bragg. When they pressed her about getting married without really knowing the guy, she just replied, "He's the one."

Her mom, Karen, flew down from Syracuse to talk her out of marrying Mike. After talking to Jo, and meeting Mike, she flew back to New York and told the rest of the family, "He's the one." After that, the family, somewhat reluctantly, was able to accept Mike as one of their own.

It was completely different on his side of the family. His dad, Jack, and his stepmother, Allison, were completely ecstatic that he was getting married. They despaired that he would never find the right woman. He wasn't a big dater, on the quiet side until he got to know someone, and with 50,000 military men in the area, available women were scarce. Available women that were quality were even scarcer. So, they were overjoyed when the engagement and the wedding were announced.

Three years later, now that they were expecting, the families on both sides were excited for them. Allison and Karen both flew into Colorado Springs on the same weekend, to spend some quality time with Jo. Mike was peripheral during the whole weekend. Allison hugged him, said "Girl talk, sweetie," and shooed him from the proceedings.

Mike was so grateful that Karen and Jo embraced Allison as an equal, and as a friend. Allison may be his stepmother, but she was the only mother he had ever known. His mother passed away when he was two years old. Allison gave him nothing but love, kindness and understanding since she came into his life. He had a step-brother and a step-sister, but to him, Craig and Sarah were his brother and sister. Since he was the oldest, he always looked out for them when they were growing up. When Allison met Jo's mom, Karen, those two became fast friends. They talked to each other more than they talked to Mike and Jo.

It was different with Jo's father, Vince, and Mike's dad, Jack. Jack was a State Trooper for Georgia. Vince was an investment banker. Plus, Mike's dad was a Republican, and Jo's dad was a Democrat. Not a whole lot of common ground there. So, they kind of ignored each other if they were in close proximity.

Still, both were pretty happy to be grandparents. And, while Vince was a Democrat, he was more of an old school, blue collar Democrat, despite his work. He was secretly pleased that his son-in-law was Special Forces. Of course, neither family knew that he was a Tier 1 operator. Mike's dad had been a soldier in the 82nd Airborne, though, and he had a pretty good idea of what Mike's job entailed.

Married life had been an even bigger change than Jo anticipated. Right before they got married, Mike told her what his job was. She knew he was Special Forces but didn't know he was Tier 1. She didn't even know what Tier 1 meant until he explained it to her. Jo learned that she couldn't question too closely about what Mike's job entailed or what missions he went on, but she had met all of the team, and she stayed in tune with what was happening.

"So, Rob went down to Mr. Owens office?" she asked, changing the subject.

Mike nodded his head, relieved, knowing that, with this question, the crisis was over, and he was off the hook, "Oh yeah, he did."

Jo heard stories about the retired Sergeant Major's capability for creative phrasing when describing the reproductive process. She met Mr. Owens a few times, but never experienced his expertise. Since Mr. Owens considered himself a gentleman, he never displayed his verbal capabilities to her. Even the team wouldn't talk to her about Mr. Owens' extensive vocabulary, except in terms that didn't adequately demonstrate his abilities. Some of the other wives in the unit heard a few things and relayed them to her. What little she heard raised her eyebrows and made her blush.

"And," she asked.

"Well, what Rob described would have to be anatomically impossible unless you're contemplating shackles, a teeter-totter, and a mission impossible style cat suit. I don't know how else you would be able to accomplish it."

Jo looked at him in all seriousness, "You're making that up, aren't you?"

Mike shook his head, "Nope, I couldn't even if I tried.

Jo took a few minutes to try and wrap her mind around the possibility. She just wasn't able, and after a few minutes, shook her head as if she was coming out of a trance, "I can't even visualize that, and if I did, I'm not sure I would want that particular image stuck in my head for the rest of my life."

Mike agreed, "Yeah, better for you if you didn't. I may have nightmares for a very long time."

Jo got up and walked around the island to Mike. She still had a glass of wine in her hand. Mike was just finishing up at the sink. The dishwasher next to him was open, stacked with dishes, plates, cutlery, and glasses.

She stood behind him and put her arm around his stomach as he scrubbed out the sink and washed his hands. She laid her head against his back. She wanted him to know that she appreciated him making dinner for her, and that she knew it wasn't his fault that he wouldn't be there for the ultra sound.

Mike continued with the dishes and just enjoyed the feeling of having her close to him. He loved her, and anything that hurt her, hurt him. He knew this was her way to apologize. This feeling was his life, what he kept with him, this closeness, deep inside his psyche when he was out on mission. It was this feeling that would ensure that he always came home to her, even if he had to walk through the gates of hell to do so.

Jo knew this. There was a stillness around Mike whenever she did this. She could feel the way his muscles moved across his back as his hands and arms moved to finish the dishes. When he was done, he grabbed the towel and wiped his hands on it. He turned and put his arms around Jo. She leaned into his chest, sat the glass of wine on the counter, and put both arms around him. She looked up into his eyes.

"You know, since I can't visualize what Mr. Owens was talking about, maybe you could show me."

Mike looked up, contemplated her thoughtful and somewhat overly innocent expression, and pondered for a few moments.

"Well, we may be able to use a sauce pan and the vacuum cleaner, but I don't think we have a folding ruler."

Jo asked, "Well, I have a duster in the hall closet, will that work?"

Mike replied, "That completely depends on whether or not we have a tennis ball handy."

Jo looked at him, smiling, "You're so full of shit."

Mike leaned down to kiss her, "Yes I am."

The tenseness from earlier was completely gone, and emotions had shifted into a completely different direction. Mike used his foot to slide the dish rack into the dishwasher. He used the same foot to kick the dishwasher door up to close it. He felt around until he found the button to turn it on. Feelings became intense. Hands were roaming under shirts, and buttons were being unbuttoned. Newly bared skin was covered in kisses.

Jo yelped in a quiet, but not unpleased voice.

"Your hands are cold."

"Hellooo, just did the dishes and washed my hands," Mike replied.

"Let me help you warm those up."

The intensity increased. Clothes came off. Mike picked up Jo and started to put her on the island counter.

"No, that's wet and cold."

"Couch?" he asked.

"Lazyboy?" she countered.

Admiration entered his voice, "very daring, young lady."

She giggled. Mike picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him. He carried her into the living room, maneuvering to keep from tripping over furniture. Jo continued pulling off clothes, hers and his. The clothes landed on the floor, marking the trail to the Lazyboy. Soon there were no more clothes and no more talking.

\--------------------------------------

They lay on the couch under a blanket, enjoying the aftermath, a trail of destruction marking their path across the kitchen and living room. The sound of light rain on the roof added to the comfort of the moment. They lay there, Mike on the bottom, Jo laying on top of him. One of his arms was behind his head, the other around her. Jo had both arms under her, one hand on his stomach, the other tracing a design around his nipple. She lay with her head on his chest so that she could listen to his heartbeat.

"I don't think I put any soap in the dishwasher."

Jo smiled, "I think you were a little busy at the moment."

"True."

There was a pause.

"Oh crap," Mike said.

Jo's face went from content to curious.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I just thought about the table scraps for Moira and Fiona."

Jo's head popped up and she stared into his eyes, "Oh crap."

Mike nodded, "Yep."

Jo asked, though she already knew the answer, "They're still outside, aren't they?"

Mike answered, "Yep."

Jo sighed. She listened to the rain, "Wet puppies."

Mike answered again, "Yep."

Jo sat up, glorious in her nudity. Mike drank in the sight of her beauty like a thirsty man. Mike was lying naked underneath her. She ran one hand over his stomach, enjoying the reactions of his body.

"Do you want the dogs, or do you want the clothes?" she asked.

He thought about it, not wanting to let go of the moment. He sighed, "I'll take the dogs. You get the clothes."

Jo stood up and started grabbing clothes off of the floor. Mike sat up and looked around for his boxer shorts. If the clothes weren't picked up, there was a very good chance that the dogs would be running around the house with Mike or Jo's underwear in their mouths.

Mike sat there watching her body as she moved to pick up the clothes.

"Hey, perv."

Mike smiled, stood up and walked over to her. He placed his hand on her ass and pinched her cheek, getting a squeal from her in return. He kissed her as he did so.

"It's a good thing the dogs were outside," he stated.

Jo laughed, "Yeah, there's nothing like a wet nose to spoil the mood."

Mike chuckled. He found his boxers and put them on. He walked to the kitchen door, and sure enough, there were two wet, bedraggled dogs sitting on the stoop. Fiona whined as he looked out the door at them. Doggy smiles with wet tongues tickled his legs as he let them in. He herded them back to the door so that they wouldn't run through the house, getting everything wet.

"Babe, help, need towels."

He heard quick footsteps as Jo ran to the room, dumped the clothes on the bed, and then ran to get towels. He was about to lose the game that the dogs were intent on playing, when she came in with the towels. She was dressed now, taking the time to pull on shorts and a t-shirt when she was in the bedroom. She wrapped Moira up in a towel and started drying her off. Mike grabbed Fiona and started drying her. The towels were bitten and tugged by the dogs, more interested in playing than getting dry. It took a while, but eventually, the dogs were dry, the floor mopped up, and the frenetic energy in the dogs wound down. Mike put the scraps and food in the bowl for the dogs, focusing their attention.

Jo stood beside Mike. He put his arm around her, and she leaned her head against him. She sighed, "One more disaster averted."

Mike smiled, "You know it's going to get worse with two or three kids in the mix."

"Yeah, but they'll be our kids, and our mess to deal with." She studied him, "Think you can handle it, big guy."

He looked at her, "Honestly, it's a little overwhelming for me. I'm trained to deal with death and destruction. Raising kids," he looked back at the dogs, "and praying that I'm doing a good job, hoping that I don't screw up and raise serial killers," he paused, "that scares the hell out of me."

Jo stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't worry baby, I'll be right here with you."

"Thank God. If kids are half as bad as those two, I'll need all the help I can get," Mike put his arms around Jo, and squeezed.

\--------------------------------------

He woke up thirty minutes before the alarm. Whenever he had a trip or a mission, he woke up early. Something in his psyche would bring him out of a deep sleep so that he wouldn't be late. It was Monday, and Mike had to get on the road early. He lay next to Jo, listening to her breath, her chest rising and falling. He moved carefully and turned off the alarm. He didn't want to wake her. He lay motionless, listening to the stillness of the house and the soft patter of rain on the roof. He looked over occasionally at the alarm clock to see the time and watched the countdown until he had to get out of bed. The alarm clock displayed 0415 hours, 4:15 a.m. in civilian speak. He moved slowly to get out of bed. Jo stirred, then rolled over and went back to sleep. He walked softly through the bedroom and out into the kitchen. He shut the door to the bedroom and flipped on the lights.

The dogs were in their kennels. Jo took them to the vet on Friday to get them spayed. They had to stay overnight, and Mike and Jo went on Saturday afternoon to pick them up. Neither one was very happy with the operation and needed a lot of attention on the way to the truck. They walked into his legs, and tried to hide under cars, not understanding the source of the discomfort.

He and Jo spent the day feeding the girls drugs for infection and pain. Jo sat with Fiona, and Mike sat with Moira, just petting them so that they would calm down, and stay calm. They watched movies and ate popcorn while they sat with the girls, spoiling them with doggy treats. The dogs slept intermittently while the movies played.

His bag was packed and sitting on the couch. The clothes he was going to wear were laid out next to the bag. He walked to the spare bathroom for his morning wash. After a hot shower and shave, he was wide awake. He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. Jo was up cooking eggs and sausage, with premade, quick cooking biscuits in the oven. She wore a robe over her usual tank top and pajama bottoms.

He walked over and gave her a squeeze and a kiss, "And I was trying so hard to keep from waking you. You didn't have to get up and make breakfast."

Jo blinked sleepily at him, "What kind of wife would I be if I let my man leave the house for three weeks without a good breakfast?"

"A well-rested one, baby," he replied. He patted her on her stomach, "I'd rather you and the baby get a good rest."

She shooed him away, "The baby and I are fine. Go put some clothes on before I jump you and make you late for work."

Mike laughed, "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Good point, and no, there isn't. But you have to go to work, and I'm not going to be the reason you get into trouble," she replied.

"Okay, okay, you win. I'll get dressed."

He walked away and looked over at the dogs. There was no way they would be asleep with the smell of eggs and sausage in the air. He could see the soft, pleading eyes in the kennels, "Looks like the girls are awake."

"Babe, when you get some clothes on, can you let them out into the backyard? They probably need to pee."

"Yep, I'll take care of it."

He walked to the couch, let the towel drop, and put on the clean clothes. He put on khakis, a polo shirt, and work boots. He put his belt on, then walked over to the cabinet and pulled out the holstered Sig P220 .45 and threaded it onto the belt. On the other hip, he put two spare magazines. The brown leather belt, brown leather holster, and brown leather magazine holders with the basket weave design had been his birthday present from Jo.

When he was dressed, he let the dogs out of the kennel and carefully herded them to the back door so they wouldn't get too excited and pee on the floor. The drugs in their systems made that possibility a little more likely. The dogs went outside, walked around sniffing, then did their business and came back to the house, hoping to get in on the breakfast scraps. Mike left them outside so that he could have breakfast in peace. He could hear Fiona whine.

Mike sat down at the table and put butter and jam on the biscuits. The eggs were scrambled with onion and peppers. Jo sprinkled cheese over the top, and he put salt and pepper on the eggs.

"You know; you should at least taste them before you season them."

Mike nodded contritely, "I'm sorry, chef, it'll never happen again."

"Yes, it will," Jo stated as she kissed him on the top of the head. She placed a brown bag on the table.

"What's that?" he asked.

"For the road. I put buttered biscuits with eggs, sausage, and cheese in there. There are six of them."

Mike grabbed her hand and kissed it. He tucked into the breakfast and polished off the food so he wouldn't be late. He finished his coffee, stood and turned to Jo.

She melted into his arms, and put her head on his chest, "Are you going to call me when you get there?"

"I will if I'm allowed to. Hopefully it won't be a problem. You know how it is."

"Okay," She rested her head against his chest. She definitely knew how it was. She was always fearful when he left, and grateful when he came home. This was the part that she hated. She knew that in his line of work, there might come a day when he walked out the door, and never came back.

They stood there for the better part of two, three minutes, just holding each other.

"You take care of you and the baby until I get back."

"Okay, I will. I love you."

"I love you, too," reluctantly, he loosened his grip and gave her a kiss.

She returned it, and then let him go. She walked with him to his pack and watched as he picked it up. She held his hand, and then at the front door, she grabbed him, turned him, and fiercely pulled him toward her. She gave him a passionate kiss, surprising him with the intensity.

She pulled away, "So you don't forget me."

He smiled at her, "As if."

He leaned in, and light as a feather's touch, kissed her on the cheek, turned and walked out the door. She watched through the door as he went to the truck, put in his back pack, hopped into the front seat, and fired up the engine. He waved at her, pantomimed a kiss, and drove away.

She sighed and closed the door. She walked back to the kitchen, then noticed the dogs outside. She walked over to the door and let them back in. They were both moving slowly, but they seemed to be doing okay. Jo grabbed some bread and opened up a bottle of pain medication that the vet had prescribed for the girls. She started wrapping bread around the pills and dipped the bread in the grease from the skillet.

" _That should get them to eat the pills,"_ she thought.

Moira was looking expectantly at her. Jo couldn't see Fiona. She looked around. Fiona was standing at the front door. Her tail was wagging.

"Oh, baby, daddy's gone."

Jo fed them the pills, checking to make sure that they didn't spit them back out. Then she put on coffee, cleaned the table, and put the plates into the sink. She waited until the dogs were done with their food, and she put them back into their kennel.

It was too late for her to go back to sleep, so she grabbed sausage biscuits and filled a cup with coffee. She watched the morning news while she ate. One of the dogs, probably Fiona, whimpered as she sank into sleep. The morning stock market news was on, but she wanted to listen to something light, so she turned the channel until she found news personalities on a couch talking about the latest Hollywood gossip.

Soon, she was done with the food. There was still nothing interesting on TV, so she stood up, took the dishes to the sink, and put them in. She kept the coffee cup, poured some more coffee, and then walked to the bedroom to get ready for the day.

\--------------------------------------
Chapter Four – Then

Mike drove to the back end of the parking lot. He hopped out of the truck, grabbed his bag, locked the truck, and walked over to the front gate. Everett and Mickey were both standing outside the turnstile, in front of the window where the guard was.

"Hey guys, do we have a ride over to the flight line?" Mike asked.

Everett nodded, a cup of coffee in hand, his travel bag at his feet, "Yeah, the staff duty driver is going to take us there."

They stood around for a few more minutes and the duty driver came out, apologizing for the wait. Mike, Everett, and Mickey followed him over to the SUV, and got in. The driver started down the road and ten minutes later they were at the gate to Peterson Air Force Base. Mike gathered up their military IDs and passed them to the duty driver.

The duty driver pulled up to the gate and handed the IDs to the young Air Force MP. He took a look at each of the IDs and then matched them individually to the people in the car. He asked where they were going. The duty driver told him that they were going to the PAX terminal. The MP nodded and let them through the gate.

They arrived at the passenger terminal and Rob and Tom were there to meet them. Tom's wife was also there, a fast food bag holding sausage biscuits in hand.

"Hi, Barbara, how've you been?" Mike asked.

Tom's wife was a petite blond with smiling, blue eyes. She looked tired, "I'm doing okay. My sister's in town, so it gave me a chance to bring Tom some breakfast before you guys leave."

Barbara was a sweet woman, but God help you if she thought you were being disrespectful to her husband or children. That last bit was a dig at him because Tom had to be out here in the morning for guard duty on the pallet. Mike took it in stride. He knew she didn't mean any harm.

"When can Jo and I get you and Tom out to the house for dinner?" he asked.

She brightened at the idea, "Well, I still have two kids down with chicken pox, but I hope they're better by the time ya'll get back." Her Tennessee twang became more pronounced as she relaxed with the conversation.

"Maybe you can give Jo a call, and you two ladies can figure something out."

Barbara agreed, and then turned her attention back to Tom.

Rob approached them, "Hey stragglers, you need to show your IDs so that they can verify that you're on the manifest."

Mike nodded, and then said, "I'll be in, give me a moment."

The guys set off with Barbara in tow to go inside the passenger terminal.

Mike was lucky that the light rain had stopped and the clouds were clearing in the east. He loved this one thing about Colorado Springs more than anything else. In fact, he would often get up early just to see it. It was best in the winter time when the sun came up later in the morning. As Mike watched, the twilight slowly lightened. Then, the sun hit the high peaks of the mountains, just west of Colorado Springs. As the sun illuminated the mountains, they blazed a luminous rosy glow. Mike watched, sipping coffee as the sun lit up the day. Finally, Mike could put it off no more. He slipped inside the passenger terminal.

He walked over to the counter and showed his orders and ID to the airman behind the counter. She checked and verified that he was manifested on the flight. Mike walked to the waiting area, to the seats that the team had appropriated. Tom gave Barbara a kiss, then she said goodbye to everyone and left Tom with the team. The group started pulling out E-readers, E-media players, and personal tablets to keep busy.

"How was your weekend?" Everett asked.

"Well, we took the pups to get them spayed. They were drugged and unhappy all weekend. But they're getting better," he replied.

"If you cut off my lady bits, I'd be pretty upset," Mickey chipped in.

Everett replied, "The last time I saw your lady bits was the twenty mile hike we did in June."

"It was just chafing, not as bad as you guys made it out to be."

"Yeah, well you may want to lay off of all the damn squats. When your thighs start rubbing together, there's a problem."

Mickey decreased the body building supplements after that misadventure. Now, while he concentrated on strength training, he did a lot of running and hiking to ensure that never happened again.

"How did your weekend go?" Mike asked Everett.

"It was good. I like to spend time with Becky and Sam. It's not like I get to spend a whole lot of time with them."

Becky and Sam, or Rebecca and Samantha, were Everett's twin girls. He had them with his second wife, Vicky. They were going to be heart breakers. They were twelve years old heading directly for thirty-six.

"We had a good time. But they're starting to talk about boys and that doesn't sit too well with me."

Mike nodded, "Around here, I agree. If you don't watch it, they'll be married to a Private First Class, living in a trailer park."

Tom started singing a country song, "Two young people without a thing; say some vows and spread their wings; settle down with just what they need; livin' on love. She don't care 'bout what's in style; she just likes the way he smiles; it takes more than marble and tile; livin' on love."

"You can stop now, Tom. You aren't helping," Everett stated.

Tom chuckled.

Rob looked at Tom, "Man, that's just wrong. That's his little girls you're talking about."

Tom replied, "Look who's talking, the man who dates a different girl every weekend. You're the guy that fathers warn their daughters about."

Rob looked offended, "I've never treated a woman with disrespect. Every woman knows what they're getting into before they come home with me."

Mickey snorted, "So you're telling me that all of those intoxicated women you take home know that you won't be calling them when you're done with them."

Rob flashed sad eyes at Mickey, "Now you're just insulting me. I never take an intoxicated woman home."

Mike said, "Wait for it. . ."

Rob continued, "Because I don't want to hold a woman's hair out of the toilet while she throws up. It's just disgusting."

Tom laughed, "The man esteems the virtuous woman willing to sleep with him, because the non-virtuous woman throws up too much."

Rob flashed his white teeth in a smile, "They're very pleased to go home with me."

Mike gestured with his arms, encompassing the room with his hands. "Something seems to be filling the room, pressure is growing, what can it be? Can one man's ego grow so large?" His hands went to his chest, "Can't breathe, ego . . . consuming . . . all air . . . in the room."

The group laughed at Mike's theatrics. Mike continued, "you sir, are a slut."

Rob replied with a world-weary shrug.

Finally, one of the Airmen behind the service desk came out and yelled the mission number for their flight. They got up, grabbed their bags, and started walking to the shuttle that would take them out to the flight line to board their plane. It was a ten-minute ride. The pallet was already loaded and locked onto the ramp. The team climbed aboard the C-12 through the passenger hatch and sat down, buckling up. The plane started taxiing shortly after they fastened their seat belts. As the plane started rolling, the back ramp closed and locked into place. The load master called over the microphone on his head set, and the plane taxied to the runway. The plane gathered speed, lifted off, and the team was on its way.

The plane climbed steadily after it took off and leveled into its cruising altitude. There were no others on the flight, so the team had plenty of room to stretch out. The interior lights cut from white light to green, inducing Mickey and Tom to nod into deep sleep. Rob was listening to music and reading a book. The drone of the turbines and the whine of hydraulics made the flight a noisy one. C-12s were nice to fly on, but they weren't known for comfort. They were designed to get soldiers to combat as quickly and efficiently as possible.

This airplane was more comfortable than the C-130 that Mike cut his teeth on in Ranger Bat, though. Sixty-four airborne soldiers with gear could fit on a C-130. Jump seats were not comfortable, and when Mike was in the Rangers and the 82nd, there were a few times when his leg went to sleep while waiting to jump. With sixty-four jumpers on board, it was very crowded. Soldiers had each of their knees between the knees of two other jumper's legs sitting across from him. If they hadn't been wearing ballistic vests, parachutes, backpacks and weapons, they would look like a big, camouflaged zipper from above.

Mike relaxed, reading Ian Flemings 'James Bond' novels. Those, plus the 'Sharpe's Rifles', 'Master and Commander', and the 'Horatio Hornblower' series of books were his favorite novels. He was keenly aware that all of them were about British military, but he liked the flavor of the novels, where men faced with great conflicts mastered the day and went on to beat and excel against their adversaries. He'd worked with British and Australian SAS, and had nothing but great respect for their training, experience, and capabilities. They were a great bunch of 'lads' and fun to work with.

He worked with many of his sister services, to include SEALs, Marine Force Recon, Air Force Combat Air Control, and Para-Jumpers. Looking back on his experience, he had a great career and had done many interesting things during his time in service. He had six more years, and then he could retire. Then he would spend all of his time with Jo and their kids, and Jo wouldn't have to worry about whether or not he would come back to her.

Jo was a great woman. Had he met her when he was younger, he probably wouldn't have chosen Special Operations. He was enjoying it now, although he missed her constantly. He was comforted by the thought that Jo would be taken care of if anything did happen to him. There was plenty of money in the bank with his salary and hers. Plus, there was life insurance, just in case. He sank enough money into the house so that the land and house were mostly paid off. He knew Jo would be taken care of, but he would worry, no matter what. His goal was to always come back. That was his promise to her when he asked her to marry him. He told her that he would never leave her, and that no matter where he was in the world, he would always come back to her.

He pulled out the biscuits and passed some to Everett and Rob. It was chilly on the aircraft, so he pulled a light jacket out of his backpack and put it on. The drone of the plane started to wear on him and he stretched out, falling asleep.

The plane droned for an hour, and then finally, they felt the plane turn. Hydraulics sounded as the aircraft banked. They were experienced enough to know the indicators that the plane was about to enter the target area. They roused, and the sleepers rubbed their faces to ensure that there was no drool or sleep lines.

Rob gestured to Mickey, and kept pointing at his own face, indicating that there was something on Mickey's. Mickey kept trying to rub whatever it was off, but Rob kept motioning that he'd missed it. The fact that there was nothing there didn't dawn on Mickey until he saw the grins on Mike's and Everett's faces.

"Asshole," he grumbled.

Rob nodded.

Everybody checked around themselves and made sure that trash was picked up and no personal items had been left. They felt the angle of the plane change and knew that the plane was losing altitude. This pilot was good. He managed such a soft landing that they were surprised when they felt the brakes of the aircraft take hold. Then, as is usual with a C-12, the aircraft slowed down quickly, throwing them against their seat belts, and changed direction as it moved off of the main runway toward the area where they would disembark.

\--------------------------------------

Chapter Five – Then

As the C-12 taxied, the loadmaster of the plane went to the back, prepped, and lowered the tail gate of the plane until it was parallel to the ground. The air was cooler, crisper here, and the team could smell the freshness of the air as it entered the aircraft. as the aircraft taxied, they could see the buildings of Malmstrom AFB in the distance. The plane slowed, parked, and the aircraft systems began to spool down.

They popped the buckles on the seat belts and stood to stretch stiff muscles. One of the crew members, the assistant loadmaster, talked to Mike and told him that they were waiting for an escort. As soon as the escort was available, the team would be allowed off the plane. The assistant load master went to the passenger hatch right below the flight deck, opened the door, and let down the stairs. A fork lift appeared at the back of the plane. An Air Force captain appeared at the front hatch and walked up the stairs. As the fork lift maneuvered to receive the pallet, the Air Force captain walked over and introduced himself to the team. He was taken aback when he realized they were dressed in civilian clothes.

"Gentlemen, my name is Captain Bob Dickenson. I'll be your escort to our operation. There seems to be some mistake. We asked for people with infantry experience. We didn't ask for civilians."

Mike stepped up to the Captain, "And infantrymen you got. My name is Chief Warrant Officer Three Mike Duggins." He continued with the rest of the team, "This is Master Sergeant Everett Calhoun, Sergeant First Class Mickey D'Inazio, Staff Sergeant Roberto Torres Y Torres, and Staff Sergeant Thomas Milkin."

Captain Dickenson shook hands with each of the team members as they were introduced. He winced as he shook hands with Mickey, "Ah, excuse me, you don't look like the typical infantryman I'm used to. I was a combat engineer before I switched to the Air Force and became an officer."

Rob nodded, "Yes sir, we're too pretty to be your average infantryman, but they finished with the recruiting posters and TV spots so they decided to send us here."

Mike smiled at the Captain's confused look, "You can ignore him. I always do." Mike continued, "We can discuss this later. One of my men needs to go with the pallet. We have weapons and munitions on it."

"Don't worry, Chief. We'll be escorting it the entire way to Area 19. If you don't mind, let's go ahead and get in the van, and we'll get off the airfield."

"That'll work," Mike replied.

The team grabbed their backpacks and followed the Captain out of the plane. They climbed into the van and took seats.

"All right, the short bus," Mickey observed.

"Appropriate for this group," Mike stated.

The driver was an Airforce Staff Sergeant, skinny, losing what little red hair he had. He had a face full of freckles and an easy smile. His name was Staff Sergeant Drapier. The Captain gave him directions to follow the forklift, which was starting to pull away from the aircraft toward a gate that led off of the airfield. The fork lift and passenger van pulled through the gate and the fork lift approached a flatbed truck.

As Mike watched, the fork lift pulled alongside the flat bed and started loading the pallet onto the truck. Two other Air Force personnel gave hand signals to the person on the fork lift so the pallet was placed square onto the flatbed. As soon as the two Air Force personnel had the pallet loaded correctly, they waved off the fork lift, and strapped down the pallet to the flatbed for movement. They hopped into the cab of the truck.

Mike asked, "Are we going far?"

"What?"

"Are we moving far from here? You just strapped the pallet to a flat bed, so I'm assuming we're traveling."

Captain Dickenson shook his head, "No, not far, but we'll be leaving the base. We'll travel down highway 89. We have to travel to get to Area 19. We'll follow the flatbed, and they have orders not to lose sight of us. Not too much of a problem."

Mike had to trust the captain. As the team settled in, the flatbed pulled away from the loading zone, and the van fell in behind it.

"Where are you guys from?" Captain Dickenson asked.

"We're from Fort Carson."

"I was station at Fort Bragg. I was with the 307th Engineer Battalion before they were deactivated in 2006."

"Well, you'll be glad to know the unit has been reactivated and is now part of the 20th Engineer Brigade," Everett told him.

"Yeah, I still have some friends in the Engineers at Bragg. My buddies from Operation Iraqi Freedom emailed me and told me it had been reactivated. So, who are you guys with?" Dickenson asked.

Mike replied carefully, "Well, the requirements you sent meant a more specialized unit had to be called in for this mission."

Captain Dickenson waited. When no more information was forthcoming, he asked, "What unit is that?"

Mike studied him, "Maybe we can talk when we get to a secure area."

Captain Dickenson studied him for a moment, and then Mike saw the understanding flood his face as the light went on upstairs. Dickenson grinned, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Mike grinned back at him, "Don't you love special access programs?"

They exited Malmstrom Air Force Base and headed south on a road that swung to the southeast. Mike assumed it was highway 89, which was confirmed a few miles later by a sign on the side of the road. They were surrounded by farm land, with farm houses widely spaced from each other. The farms were covered in wheat fields with the occasional soy bean farm. To the south and west they could see mountains rising off the flat lands. To the east there was a small group of mountain peaks that sat by themselves away from any other mountains. They kept moving east on highway 87. The mountains to the east kept getting larger. The flatbed pulled off on a side road going north and the shuttle bus followed.

As the shuttle bus traveled, Captain Dickenson talked about accommodations, "Gentlemen, we have two rental cars reserved for you at Enterprise on base, and rooms reserved for you at the base BOQ. Once we're done here today, we'll move you back to Malmstrom, and you can pick up your rental cars. Tomorrow, you can drive directly out to Area 19. We greatly appreciate that you're able to come out and help us with our project."

Tom put his hand up.

Captain Dickenson smiled, "And if you could hold your questions until we get to a secure area, I would greatly appreciate it."

Tom's hand slowly went down.

Mickey looked at him, "Dude, you should have gone before we got on the bus."

"Are we there yet?" Rob quipped.

Finally, they rolled up to their destination. The flatbed turned onto a small access road barely large enough for the truck. The access road led to a large metal building that sat out in a field. The area around the building had a chain link fence topped by razor wire. There were large cement security barriers around the perimeter that butted up to the fence to prevent any vehicle from driving through the chain link.

A large parking lot on the side of the building had vehicles parked in it. From where he was, Mike could see a security checkpoint at the front doors of the building. The flatbed truck pulled up to a gate, and an Air Force security guard walked over to it. He checked the Air Force ID cards and security badges of the driver and his assistant. He pulled a handset and spoke into it. The gate rolled back to admit the flatbed.

Mike and the team did what they were trained to do. They checked out the security of the site. Mike saw a CCTV system, the cameras capable of infrared and starlight. There were eight-inch diameter, metal stanchions in the ground at the gate. If there was a problem the guard in the guard house would hit a button and hydraulics would send the metal stanchions up so that no vehicle would be able to breech the gate. Mike saw security lights with sensors to trigger lights if movement was detected. The place was well defended.

The shuttle bus parked, and Captain Dickenson spoke, "Gentlemen, we'll have to give you guest passes until we get you processed, and the rules are such that you're not allowed to bring electronics into Area 19. You can check your pistols at Security."

"Uh, we have some expensive electronics here," Everett said.

"You can leave your bags in my office, if that's good enough for you. Otherwise, you'll have to leave them in the van."

Mike looked around at his team. Nobody seemed to be upset about leaving their packs in the captain's office, "Sure, no problem, lead on."

The entrance had two sides, one for people going in, and one for people coming out. Captain Dickenson walked into Security and everybody walked in behind him. The Captain started talking to the Tech Sergeant behind the desk. The Tech Sergeant was an Asian named Yee, with an athletic build. Captain Dickenson turned to Mike and his team and asked for their military ID cards. He handed their IDs to Tech Sergeant Yee.

Yee sat down at a computer and started typing. The Tech Sergeant ran a check to verify they were who they said they were, secured the IDs, and replaced them with security badges. There were two other security guards present, a female Senior Airman named Trevino, athletic, brown hair, and a gangly, pasty white Staff Sergeant named O'Neill who looked like he spent too much time playing video games. There was a clearing barrel outside, so they went out and cleared their weapons, then brought them back and handed them to O'Neill. The gangly Staff Sergeant gave them chits for their weapons and secured them behind the desk. After this, Captain Dickenson walked them through security to the building behind.

Captain Dickenson swiped his badge, "Please swipe as you go through so that security knows where you're at. Everybody swipes their IDs, no free riders through secure areas."

They walked through the front door. As soon as they stepped inside, there was another security desk. The guards there were back up for the guards in the security building out front. The desk was immediately to the right. Behind it were two more Air Force security guards. He couldn't see their name tags. One was a black female, short hair, curvy, attractive. The other was a large Samoan with huge arms. Mike could see that there was an office behind the desk, so there were probably more security guards present.

Straight ahead was a long hall that led to a large door at the end. Captain Dickenson walked down the hall. The team followed through the building. The building was big, and the front area was filled with offices. On the walls was the typical detritus that washes up on walls of every military installation. Mike could see the chain of command in pictures, all the way up to the president. There was also the NCO chain of support on the walls. Further down, there were photos of squadron personnel engaged in family gatherings and sporting events. Commanders' policy letters were displayed and Mike wondered if anybody ever read them.

There were smaller corridors that ran off of the main corridor to the left and right. Keeping in tradition with all secure buildings around the world, there were no windows. There were civilians and military alike in the offices. Some offices were open, and there were also secure areas with heavy doors and cypher locks. Need to know and all that, can't have just anybody wandering through secure areas.

They walked through the administration offices, straight back through the hallway, then stepped through the door at the end, which led into the back of the building. This area was a supply area, with locked cages spread throughout. There was also a large rolling shutter door that was slowly coiling up into a metal container at the top of the door. Outside, Mike could see the flatbed truck. A forklift was picking up the pallet from the flatbed.

Rob looked around and something caught his eye.

"Is that a . . .," and he trailed off.

Captain Dickenson grinned, "Yep. That's a refurbished missile launch tube for a Minuteman two missile. We repurposed it, and the area under it, for our use."

The forklift lifted the pallet off the flatbed. Once the forklift and pallet came through the door, a large man, a Tech Sergeant, clicked the button and the door started closing. The Tech Sergeant was medium height, stocky with muscle and a little fat, light blond hair, cut extremely short. You had to look closely to see the hair. Mike looked at him, and for some reason, while looking at the Tech Sergeant's head, thought of a big potato.

As the pallet came in, an Air Force 2nd Lieutenant walked up. An older man was with her. Captain Dickenson introduced her as 2nd Lieutenant Pang, and Mike would find out later that she was Hmong. Her smile made her look like a teenager. She was about five feet tall, maybe shorter, and very petite, which added to her youthful look. She was very pretty, with nice curves. Next to her stood an older man, mid-forties, whose hair reminded Mike of a picture of Einstein, although the hair was shorter, salt and pepper. Still the hair looked like it was trying to escape from the top of his head. He was wearing a lab coat. He was introduced as Dr. Humphreys.

"Ah, we can't just leave the pallet in a loading bay. It has munitions and weapons on it." Mike said.

The forklift moved into the building and over to the service elevator for which the missile tube had been repurposed. Lieutenant Pang smiled at Mike. "Don't worry, we have a very safe place for it." The forklift placed the pallet in the middle of the service elevator. The Tech Sergeant stepped into the elevator and walked to a small control panel. There was no door on the front of the elevator. The Tech Sergeant pressed another button and the platform started moving down. The civilian in the forklift drove away.

Captain Dickenson explained, "We have a secure area below. Your pallet will be there, and I'll take to you to it tomorrow. We have to get you read on to our program, before I can allow you to go below."

Mike nodded, "Not a problem, just let us strip the pallet. Don't let anybody else touch it until we do. We have everything balanced and know where the explosives are. Plus, we have a few expensive toys on there that don't need to be knocked around."

Captain Dickenson nodded, "We can do that." Then the meaning of Mike's words connected, "You mean you have explosives on that pallet? Why do you have explosives?"

Mike looked at him and then pulled out a manila envelope. The envelope had orders, emails, and the list of requested items, "Because somebody in your command asked us to bring our standard combat load. In our standard combat load, we carry hand grenades of various types, and explosives."

"Well, we weren't expecting that. I'll make sure that everybody understands that you're the only ones that touch your pallet."

Mike nodded, "Thanks."

Lieutenant Pang took over. "Gentlemen, please follow me and we'll go to the SAP custodian." The Special Access Program custodian would have non-disclosure agreements for them to sign so that they could have access to classified information.

The team had no arguments with this. They were all happy to follow the attractive Lieutenant to the SAP Custodian. They followed Lieutenant Pang to Captain Dickenson's office first where they left their backpacks. Then they followed her to the Special Security Office, where the SSO would read them on to the program. The SSO's office was behind a stout metal, cypher locked door. When they got there, Mr. Landberg, the SSO, took them back into his office and gave them paperwork to fill out. Mr. Landberg was about thirty years old, medium height, brown hair with bangs that were almost long enough to fall into his eyes, dressed in business casual.

He showed them a short film. "Welcome to DARPA project Rossum," the video stated. They watched the video. As the video continued, their mouths opened in wonder at what they were looking at.

Everett was the first to speak, "Mech, freaking, Armor. I think I have wood."

Mickey replied, "That is the sexiest thing I think I've ever seen."

Rob added, "I wonder if the basic model comes in another color."

"Screw color, I want mine painted up like a bad ass ninja with pirate flags," Mike quipped. Captain Dickenson, Lieutenant Pang, and Mr. Landberg started laughing.

Captain Dickenson spoke to Mr. Landberg. "Mr. Jamison and Colonel Mitchem will want to talk to the team now."

Captain Dickenson looked over at the team, "Director Jamison is the director, a civilian GS15 in charge of the program, and Lieutenant Colonel Mitchem is our commanding officer."

Mike nodded and filed the information away. Since Jamison was a GS15, technically, he outranked the Lieutenant Colonel.

Landberg spoke, "Well, I'm finished, so you can call them now." He grabbed all of the files and signed forms and went to his cubicle and sat down at his desk.

Captain Dickenson got up from his chair and left the room. After the phone call, he came back, and took a seat. He, Lieutenant Pang, and the team sat around, making small talk until the director and lieutenant colonel came into the room. Captain Dickenson stood as they entered the room. The team and Lieutenant Pang also stood. Mike held out his hand, which was ignored.

Colonel Mitchem took in their civilian attire with aplomb, but the civilian was surprised and not happy about it. Colonel Mitchem was trim in his uniform, graying hair around the temple, average height. Jamison was completely different. The guy was twitchy. Mike was uncomfortable looking at the guy. Jamison definitely had a nervous vibe coming from him.

Jamison was dressed completely in black; black jacket, black turtle neck, and black slacks. He had a shock of white hair, and stood about five foot five, shorter than everybody in the room except for Lieutenant Pang. The shock of white hair made Mike think of a cotton swab. Jamison was slightly hunched over, making him look even smaller. A perpetual sneer seemed etched into his face. Mike immediately detested him.

" _Who the hell wears turtlenecks anymore?"_ Mike thought to himself.

"Who are you? We asked for military, not civilians."

Mike started to reply to Jamison. "Sir . . ."

Jamison ignored him and turned to the Lieutenant Colonel. "I thought you said they were infantry soldiers."

LTC Mitchem turned to them, "Are you infantry soldiers?"

Mike nodded, "We're all combat soldiers. We all have infantry experience."

Jamison still didn't acknowledge him, "Why are they dressed in civilian clothes? They should be in uniform." Mike noticed that Jamison didn't look anybody in the eye as he was talking to them.

Mike started to speak, "Sir . . ."

Jamison looked toward Mike but didn't look directly at him. His eyes wouldn't meet Mike's. He snarled a reply, "I wasn't talking to you."

Mike tried again, "Sir . . ."

Jamison slammed his hand on the wood of the table, then pointed at Mike, his face red with anger. Hissing, he said, "I told you to shut up."

The entire team grew quiet and still. This was a major breach in decorum. They didn't like the way Jamison was treating Mike. What made it worse was that LTC Mitchem didn't seem like he was going to step in to defuse the situation. Dickenson and Pang looked embarrassed. Mike could feel the blood creeping up his neck and into his face. Mike could see the wariness in Mitchem's face. He didn't know if it was because of his team or because of Jamison.

Mitchem spoke, "Why are you in civilian clothes?"

Mike answered, "This is our uniform, unless we're directed to wear something else."

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Inside, he had a memorandum indicating that he and his team were allowed relaxed grooming standards, based on the mission. There was no end date on the memorandum. The memorandum included civilian clothes. He pulled out the memorandum and slid it over to the Colonel. The Colonel started to reach for it, but Jamison got to it first. He snatched up the paper, hands jerking slightly as he read it. He passed the paper to Mitchem. Mitchem took a look at the paper and then passed it back to Mike.

Jamison looked over at Captain Dickenson, "Make sure they don't interfere with my people." He turned and walked out of the office. LTC Mitchem wasn't fazed by Jamison's actions.

Mitchem started speaking. His tone was cold, "You're going to be helping my team on this project. All of these scientists and techs are highly trained in their specialties. You'll do exactly what they tell you to do. I'm fairly sure that most of this will be over your head, so don't interfere with the engineering team. If you break anything, you're liable for it. If my team gets hurt, you'll be brought up on charges. If you're insubordinate to anybody, you'll be dealing with Mr. Jamison and me. Are there any questions?"

Mike was livid, and he was sure it showed on his face. He had never been talked down to like that in his life, not even in the Rangers where discipline was paramount. He knew that these men outranked him, but he was here at their request. He and his team were doing these Air Force people a favor! Hell, Special Operations Command was doing them a favor. The disrespect that was directed toward his team made him want to snap Mitchem and Jamison's necks. Everett reached over and placed his hand on Mike's arm. Mitchem noticed the movement.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

Mike swallowed his bile and calmed down. He let his breath out slowly before he answered. "No sir, there's no problem."

Mitchem took in the group. He nodded and then turned around to leave the room. Mike sat there for a moment after he left, then noticed that everybody was looking at him.

Rob spoke first, "Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, that was weird."

Mike turned to Dickenson, "What the hell was that."

Dickenson held up a hand, indicating that everybody should have patience. He waited until he heard the heavy security door open and then shut again. He stood up and walked to the door. He looked out into the hall. Evidently, he didn't see anything. He closed the door.

Dickenson turned back to the team, "Gentlemen, I'm sorry for the command team. They're," he paused, trying to phrase his next words correctly, "problematic at times."

Mike stared at him, "Really, you call that problematic? I call that psychotic."

Lieutenant Pang tried to hide her smirk behind her hand. It was evident that she agreed with Mike's assessment. Captain Dickenson looked at her with daggers coming out of his eyes.

Pang tried to recover, but she couldn't. She started laughing.

Everett looked her over, "This is funny Lieutenant?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm relieved to know that others think that Jamison is nuts."

Dickenson spoke, "Ah, lieutenant, I don't think that's helping."

Mickey asked, "Do you think that's normal? The way Jamison reacted to Mike?"

Dickenson couldn't argue Mickey's point. His posture deflated. "Guys, look, I'm sorry about Director Jamison and LTC Mitchem. I think Mitchem is just trying to keep his job. Jamison is the real problem."

Mike wasn't sympathetic. "You could have warned us."

Dickenson looked at him, "Not with the Airmen around I couldn't. We have the luxury now of being in a room with a closed door, and Mr. Landberg is the only person here. He's very good at keeping secrets. Jamison is touch and go. Some days he's okay. Some days, not so much."

Mike looked at Dickenson and Pang, "How the hell does somebody that idiotic get put in charge of a program this big?"

Dickenson sat down, and spread his hands, "We have no idea. He's a smart guy, like science smart, but he has problems with people that aren't on his team. I think he is high functioning autistic. He speaks geek speak with the team, and he does well with his boss, but he has problems when he thinks somebody isn't giving him respect."

Mike looked at Pang, hoping for more information. She looked back at him, her face blank, "I just work here."

Mike just shook his head, "Captain Dickenson, is there anything else we should be aware of while we work in this facility?"

Dickenson shook his head, "No, the rest of the team is okay, and you should have no more problems with anybody. Just try to stay away from LTC Mitchem and Director Jamison." He didn't stop there though, pausing as a memory tugged at his thoughts, "Ah, well, there is one more thing."

Everett spread his hands on the table, "Yes?"

Dickenson looked uncomfortable, "Ah, about Dr. Randall, you may want to stay on her good side. She's very in tune with the command philosophy around here. She has direct, ah," he paused, "contact with LTC Mitchem."

That comment seemed to be loaded with hidden meaning. Mike wondered what other interesting personality traits people had around this operation, "Okay, anything else?"

Dickenson looked at Pang, and she shook her head. He looked back at the team.

Dickenson stood, "No, I don't think so. Lieutenant Pang and Dr. Humphreys will take you and get you started."

Mike nodded. He and the team stood up and followed Lieutenant Pang. Captain Dickenson stood by the door and motioned for Mike to stop and talk.

"Chief, I'm very sorry about that. My command is touchy."

Mike replied, "No, your command are dickheads."

A small smile came to Captain Dickenson's lips. "Your words, not mine."

Mike relaxed, "No problem, I have nothing against you guys, but those two need an attitude adjustment. Jamison should be in an institution somewhere."

A snort down the hall indicated that Landberg heard Mike's pronouncement. Dickenson looked over his shoulder toward the cubical that Landberg was sitting in. Landberg's disembodied voice carried down the hall, "Yep, you got that one right."

Dickenson had a wry smile on his face and held his hand out. Dickenson seemed like a decent guy. Mike reached over and shook it. Mike gave him some slack, "Okay, no problems. We're just here to work." With that, he turned and Mike followed him. Mike hoped that the unpleasantness was over. With luck, he and the team wouldn't have to interact with Mitchem or Jamison.

" _Well, at least I don't have to spend more than three weeks here,"_ he thought.

Mike followed Captain Dickenson out of the secure area. His team was outside with Lieutenant Pang, Dr. Humphreys and a female Major that they hadn't met previously. The Major introduced herself, "Gentlemen, it is a pleasure to have you here. My name is Major Joan Nosstrand. I'm the director of the medical detachment here."

She was pretty, with light brown hair cut short, blue eyes. The team shook hands and introduced themselves.

"We received your medical records from your unit, and everything looks great. Dr. Humphreys and I need to do some other tests so that we can prepare you for tomorrow's activities."

Mike elbowed Everett in the ribs. Everett jumped, "What?"

Mike replied, "If I can see it on your face, then I'm pretty sure everybody else can."

Everett's expression turned sheepish. Evidently, Everett was contemplating his next ex-wife. They caught the last of the Major's speech, "And if everybody will please follow me, we'll go to medical and take care of the tests."

They walked around the cubicles and followed Major Nosstrand through the hallway back toward a smaller elevator. She stopped and asked, "Does anybody have electronics on them?"

Mike started to tell her no, but Everett cut him off, "We left our electronics with Captain Dickerson."

The Major smile at the statement, opened the door and stepped into the elevator. They followed her, Lieutenant Pang and Dr. Humphreys in. They all had to swipe badges to get the elevator moving. There was only one button on the elevator.

The elevator stopped, and they walked out to another security station. After complying with security, they were allowed through. They walked into a vestibule that had a double door straight ahead, and an elevator with stairs next to it on the right. This elevator had regular buttons, so Mike assumed they had cleared the last of security. He asked Pang if that was the case.

Pang nodded, and pointed toward the doors, "Yes, but the main office for our security is through the double doors."

Everybody stepped into the elevator. This one was smaller, so they were crowded. Mike noticed that there were five buttons on the elevator. Dr. Humphreys pushed the button, and they went to the second floor, one below the level they were currently at. They stepped off the elevator and walked down a long hall. As they walked, Mike fell in alongside Lieutenant Pang.

"How did you end up working here?" he asked.

"Well, I have an undergraduate degree in biology and one in mechanical engineering. I was working on my masters in biomechanical engineering, and to the Air Force, it seemed like a natural fit."

Mike did a double take, "How old are you?"

She replied, "Twenty-six."

Mike frowned, "No offence, but you look like a teenager."

"None taken. I get that from everybody I meet. When I'm out with friends, I sometimes get offered the kids' menu."

Major Nosstrand led the group to an office just off the hall. The room was sixteen by twenty feet. There was not much in the room. There were five helmets lined up along one of the benches, and a single computer. The helmets were primer gray and had no faceplate. There was a strap for the chin. Humphreys walked over to the computer and logged in. Doctor Humphreys took over, "Gentlemen, we're going to be doing some tests to measure your neuro-motor functions. If you would please, pick up a helmet and bring it over to me. I'll scan the bar code on the helmet and then assign it to your profile on the computer."

The team grabbed the helmets and stood in line. The doctor scanned each helmet with a bar code scanner and as its number came up on the screen the doctor matched it with the individual holding it. When he finished, he clicked a small switch to the on position. The process went quickly.

"Gentlemen . . ." Doctor Humphreys started.

Everett spoke, "Doc, if you keep talking about gentlemen, we won't know who the hell you're talking to. Our egos are big enough. My team already has to walk sideways through the door to get all of the ego inside. Just call us by our first names."

Rob piped up, "Hey, I only need a small wheelbarrow for my ego, speak for yourself."

The doctor looked slightly confused at this exchange.

Major Nosstrand interjected, "Gentlemen, if we could just focus on the task at hand, please." There was an undercurrent of ice her voice.

"Yes ma'am," chorused from the team.

Dr. Humphreys' confusion cleared, and he started again, "Gentlemen, would you please place your helmets on. Get a little space around you, and I'll ask you to perform certain movements. The helmets will track brain activity as we go through them. Now, please move your arms directly in front of you, like this."

Dr. Humphreys started demonstrating motions for the team to perform. They ran through the motions, and Lieutenant Pang worked at the computer while Major Nosstrand looked over her shoulder, pointing out different things on the screen. The team did motions with their hands and legs then moved onto different exercises. They jumped up and down, did pushups, sit ups and ran in place. They did a series of stretches.

Mike couldn't stand it anymore. The smartass just bubbled up out of him, "What if the hokey pokey is what it's all about?" Mickey guffawed. Even Major Nosstrand had a smile on her face.

Dr. Humphreys sat down and looked at the profiles. He was apparently happy with the data that he received, "Gentlemen, most of you are finished. If I could please have Mr. Torres and Mr. D'Inazio stay, I need to rerun some of the movements for the profile."

Hoots sounded from the other three members of the team. The words "Fail," and "La-hoo-ser" were thrown around and repeated as they left the office. The phrase, "Hokey Pokey Fail," was also tossed around.

Lieutenant Pang showed them where the lounge was and they waited, drinking sodas and eating potato chips. They were joined by Mickey when he finished with profile testing. The chorus of "Loser," and "Hokey Pokey fail," started up again.

Finally, Rob was finished, and Lieutenant Pang brought him to the break room. The day was finished, and it was approaching five pm.

"So, I guess you guys need to go to housing and get your rental vehicles?" she inquired.

Mike and the team didn't see Humpreys or Nosstrand again that day; as late as it was, they were still checking the data set. Lieutenant Pang escorted them out of the secure area, and soon they were standing in the hallway at Captain Dickenson's office. Captain Dickenson came forward and started talking to them. Lieutenant Pang stood immediately behind him.

"Gentlemen," he started.

"There's that word again," Everett muttered.

"We have security badges for you."

Dickenson started passing out the badges to the members of the team. As they took a badge, they had to write down their names, the number on the badge, and then sign next to the number, signifying that they had taken possession of the badge. He handed their military ID cards back to them.

"Those badges will have to be worn at all times in this building. Security won't let you in if you don't have them. Staff Sergeant Drapier will drive you to the car rental, and then you can follow him over to the Malmstrom Inn."

"What about tomorrow morning?" Everett asked.

"What?" Captain Dickenson asked.

Mike spoke up, "Well, we don't really know this area. If we could get someone over at the Inn tomorrow, we could follow them back over here, for work."

Captain Dickenson nodded, "Not a problem, I can stop by there tomorrow morning. How about 7:30? That will get us here at around 8 o'clock."

"That will work fine, thanks," Mike replied.

Lieutenant Pang escorted them out to security, where they secured their weapons. The van was still there. They piled into the vehicle. Lieutenant Pang told them goodnight and went back into the building. All eyes were on her as she walked away. She turned back before she walked into security and caught them all watching. She smiled and went inside.

"I think I'm in love," Rob said.

Tom spoke, "Don't tell my wife, but I think I'm in love, too."

Mike punched him in the arm, and the team started talking about Lieutenant Pang. Shortly afterward, Staff Sergeant Drapier came out and got into the driver's seat.

"Where do you need to go?" he asked.

\--------------------------------------

Chapter Six – Then

The van took them to pick up the rental cars. Then they followed the van back to the BOQ. They secured their bags and took them into their rooms. Before dinner, Mike called back to the unit and checked in with Command Sergeant Major Galloway and let him know about the interaction with the command team, especially Jamison, the director. They talked back and forth about how to approach things, but Mike's main goal was to ensure that CSM Galloway knew what was happening, and more importantly, that it would be passed on to LTC Bretscif. It was always good practice to ensure your command heard about a potentially volatile situation from you before the shit hit the fan. That way the command could get all of their political ducks in a row. Forewarned is forearmed.

The team got together and went to Burger King on the base. Afterward, they retired to their rooms and spent the night in. Mike called Jo to tell her that he made it safely. They talked for a while, then Mike got ready and went to sleep. Like always, he woke early. Normally, he would go for a run, but, since he didn't know the area, he decided against it. He met the team downstairs, they had breakfast, and made it back to the BOQ as Lieutenant Pang showed up. Something had come up and Captain Dickenson couldn't make it.

Pang drove carefully to make sure that she didn't lose her charges. She signaled with plenty of time before she did a lane change and made sure that she signaled turns well in advance. Soon, they turned into the Area 19 parking lot. They got out and started chatting with Lieutenant Pang as they walked through security. All of the team had lanyards for their security badges and fished them out to show them to security. They left their cell phones and other electronics in the rental cars so that they didn't have to mess with them at security. Pistols still had to be checked.

As they walked, Pang asked if they had a good dinner, and a good night in the BOQ. She talked about some of the other restaurants that they could visit in the area. They went through security, then through administration, and stepped onto the elevator.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Security was waiting for them. The Guards stood at the ready until the cards they were wearing were interrogated with hand held scanners. When a positive response came back from the card interrogation, they had their iris scanned to ensure that they were the person on the card. Once they passed this check, one of the security personnel pressed a button and the access door slid back. They stepped to the second elevator and stepped inside. This time Lieutenant Pang pressed the button that had a four on it.

"What's on the other floors?" Rob asked.

Pang answered, "First floor is Security and Administration. Some of the big wigs have offices there."

"Jamison and Mitchem?" Mike was still pissed from yesterday.

Pang nodded, "Yes, they have offices there as well."

She continued, "The second floor has offices for the scientists, medical staff, and techs. The third floor has labs and fabrication facilities. Fourth floor is the play room . . ."

Tom didn't let her finish, "Play room?"

Pang turned and smiled at Tom. "Don't worry, you'll see. I don't want to spoil the surprise." The elevator moved past the second floor, the third floor, then on to the Fourth.

"And we're here for?" Mike inquired.

"To see if the prototypes actually work as designed."

"By prototype you mean . . .?"

"You'll see. I think you'll enjoy what's in store for you." Lieutenant Pang had a smile on her face as she talked, "Besides, I told you, I don't want to spoil the surprise."

Everett spoke, "What about the gear that we brought. I only had a few changes of clothes in my backpack, and we're going to need to get into our pallet so that we can pull out more."

"Don't worry, everything is on the fourth floor. We haven't touched a thing. We just sat it close to the mech armor so that you could access your equipment as needed."

"The mech armor?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, from the video yesterday," she replied.

The tension in the elevator went up. "You mean that we get to see those suits that we saw in the video yesterday?" this was from Mickey.

She turned around, "Yeah, that's why you guys are here. We need somebody to test the mechs."

Tom leaned against the side of the elevator and whistled.

"What did you think you were here for?" she asked as the door opened.

They stepped out and found themselves in an area that was three hundred meters by three hundred meters. The room was huge. The roof was a good ten and a half meters high, or about forty-five feet. The room was a light gray around the walls and ceiling, the floor a darker gray. The lights were bright and there wasn't much in the room. That was not the important thing about the room, though.

"Wicked. Mech! Fucking! Warrior!" The curse was out of Mike's mouth before he even realized it. He looked over at Lieutenant Pang to see if he had transgressed.

There was a big smile on her face, "Don't worry, that's the usual response."

Strangely, there were no pillars to hold up the roof. Rob, a structural engineer, knew that was impossible, with four rooms directly above. It made him very nervous. He was worried, "Ah, why are there no supports, no columns in a room this size?"

She smiled again, "We have our secrets. We have scientists and engineers that have produced some pretty cool materials for building. And for the mech suits. We use a lot of monomolecular graphene and other unusual materials here."

There wasn't much in the room. They could see their pallet, sitting close to five large hulking figures, the mech armor. Along one wall was an area that held what looked like personal body armor and flight suits. Next to that area were a few desks with computers on them. There was a group of engineers and techs standing around the mechs and the desks.

"Why are the walls and the floor gray? White might lighten things up down here," Everett asked.

Pang pointed at the mech armor, "Those things leave some wicked skid marks. Gray just makes things easier. If it was white, Colonel Mitchem would have some poor Airman down here scrubbing the floor every day."

Everett thought about it, and then nodded, "Gray, good choice then, I think."

The mech armor sat there like offensive linemen in a football game. They were huge, but they needed to be so for a person to climb inside and drive them. They were charcoal gray. The suits were set like sumo wrestlers standing on line, fists on the ground.

Both arms were straight down, resting on the floor. The butt of the suit sat down on the haunches of the back legs. They were arrayed in a straight line, one next to the other. A hatch on the back of each suit was open and pointed toward the ceiling. There was a platform on wheels next to one of the suits. Two techs were checking the inside and going over readings to ensure it was working. Nine engineers stood in a group close to the mechs, waiting for the team to come to them. Pang led them over to the group. In the background, behind these engineers, there were other techs and engineers moving around the mech armor. Evidently these nine were the brain trust.

There were 7 men and two women in the group. Dr. Humphreys was there, and he introduced the rest of the group. Dr. Ed Nachman was fiftyish, short and overweight. His expertise was materials science. Dr. Jessica Randall was one of the two women. She was in her forties, long blond hair pinned up, tall for a woman. She was a computer scientist, also an electrical engineer. Mike noted her face, and silently thought about the statement that Captain Dickenson made. Bob Leitz was one of the mechanical engineers, late thirties, average height, balding. There were two electrical engineers, Luis Garcia and John Smith. Luis had light skin and blond hair and John was black, dark skin, built like a linebacker. Tracy Sheffield was another mechanical engineer. She was average height, brown hair, skinny and Mike could tell she was introverted, shy. Mike Crandall, who waved down from the back of the suit being checked, was mid-thirties, big smile on his face. The other guy, who had a computer tablet in hand which was plugged into the back of the suit, was Josh Weitz. Josh was a small guy, about five foot six, skinny, looked like he couldn't weigh more than one hundred and thirty pounds. He nodded when introduced, pushed a shock of black hair out of his eyes, and then went back to checking the screen on the tablet in his hand. Every few seconds he would touch the screen and move his finger to make an adjustment to the program.

Dr. Humphreys said, "And of course you've already met 2nd Lieutenant Jennifer Pang, and our other Neurologist, Major Nosstrand."

Everett perked up at the mention of Major Nosstrand.

Dr. Humphreys continued, "Major Nosstrand will be joining us later today."

Everett's eyes swung back to the mechanical armor.

Dr. Humphreys asked, "So gentlemen, what do you think?"

"I think that's the most awesome thing I've ever seen," Rob said.

The pallet was forgotten in the wake of interacting with the engineering team. The spec ops team walked up to the armor at the end of the line, closest to them. The engineers watched as the men touched the suit and marveled at what it meant.

"So, what's it made of, how does it work, who's giving the nickel tour?" Everett asked.

Dr. Nachman looked at his colleagues, "If I may?"

Dr. Humphreys indicated that he start, "It's your expertise, Ed."

Dr. Randall nodded her assent. The others in the group didn't even speak up or indicate a yes or no.

" _Evidently you needed to have a doctor or officer title in front of your name to be able to speak in this crowd,"_ Mike thought to himself.

Independently, the others on the team were also coming to the same conclusion. Lieutenant Pang stood at the back of the crowd. Her expertise in biomechanical engineering aside, it probably didn't help that she was a 2nd Lieutenant and looked so young.

Dr. Ed, as Mike thought of him, walked up to the mech armor they were standing next to, "Gentlemen, this is technically an exo-skeleton; a suit of armor that has all of its movement capabilities tied to the inside of the exterior portion of the suit."

"Kind of like an insect?" Everett asked.

Dr. Ed just smiled, "Yes, exactly like insects, but instead of muscle, everything moves with mechanical servos at the joints."

Mike and the team nodded understanding. Dr. Ed continued, "The suit is comprised of sheets of micron thick graphene, weaved and suspended in a polymer that bonds the layers together to form a very strong armor for the person wearing it."

"Because graphene is two hundred times stronger than structural steel," Rob interjected. The gaze of the engineers swung toward Rob, curious that he knew about graphene.

Bob spoke up, "Not many people know about the structural properties of graphene."

Everett nodded, "Yeah, we have quite a few different interests."

Tom spoke next, "We have a special expertise in what some people might call," he paused for dramatic effect, "science."

The engineers smiled at Tom's joke, intrigued. Dr. Randall looked amused. Mike got the impression that she was laughing at, not with, the team.

Irked at her expression, Mike spoke up, "Sir, if I may continue. My team is not what you would call normal infantrymen. We have a special skill set. My team is a technical team, a nuclear and biological response team. We all have science or math degrees. I have a master's degree in mathematics. We work directly with the FBI nuclear emergency support teams, and the engineering knowledge, structural materials knowledge, and electrical engineering knowledge that my team has is rather higher than you would probably expect from the average ground pounder." He spread his hands wide at waist level, "Not that we even come close to understanding your specialties, but we ain't as dumb as we look. Oh, and we kill terrorists as well."

Mike almost grinned when he realized that now Dr. Randall looked impressed. Probably more due to the statement about killing terrorists.

The engineers started asking questions. Mike held up his hands in supplication. "Folks, we can't answer all those questions, because most of the details are classified." He smiled, "But we might be able to tell a few lies that might, indirectly, have something to do with a few missions we've done." The engineers relaxed, realizing that they weren't dealing with dummies. The engineers started interacting with the team and eventually groups of techs broke off with individuals of the team.

Rob, Mickey and Tom asked questions, curious about the mechs, and the engineers answered. Everett used a series of cleats in the side of the leg to climb up onto the back of the mechanized suit. Lieutenant Pang scrambled up the suit with him.

"So, what you're telling me, is that there's a foam that, when an electrical charge at a certain frequency is sent through, makes the foam expand and stiffen?"

Lieutenant Pang nodded.

"Yes, the foam isn't rigid, and it helps bring the lining of the suit in contact with the lining of the jumpsuit that you wear. This allows for small movements and pressure of your legs, arms and body to direct the movement of the suit itself. Plus, if the suit is damaged and you have to get out, the foam deflates and you're able to get out without being trapped."

"Where do we keep our equipment, like food, water, weapons?" he asked.

She smiled, "Actually, that's why we asked you to bring all of your equipment."

\--------------------------------------

Mike listened as different engineers engaged with his team members. Bob Leitz, like he, was standing to one side as the other team members interacted with the engineers. Mike smiled at him and asked, "What do you think about all of this?"

Bob smiled back, "overwhelming at first, don't you think?"

Mike nodded, "Yeah, I was overwhelmed by the entire underground, super-secret, mad scientist laboratory thing."

Bob barked in sudden laughter, "I guess that makes me a minion. I should be wearing a see through plastic suit and helmet twisting a dial someplace."

A few heads twisted at the laughter.

Mike warmed up to Bob, "Nah, the evil overlord gets the plastic suit. You just get to wear the white lab coat."

Bob motioned toward the mechs. Mike nodded and Bob took Mike over to it. He reached up and slapped it on the butt, "This big guy is state of the art. Of course, you heard about the graphene?"

Mike nodded, "And I heard Lieutenant Pang talking about a foam in the suit."

"Yep, that was the best way to ensure the safety of the soldier in the suit. Otherwise he's just rattling around inside a tin can."

"Graphene can," Mike corrected.

Bob smiled, "Okay, graphene can. Of course, the layers of graphene are three inches thick in some places, insuring that no shrapnel would penetrate, especially from any antitank warhead that would be shoulder fired."

"But you had the problem of over pressure, correct?" Mike pointed out.

"Yep, doesn't matter how rigid you make the outer carapace, you're still going to have energy transferred via high energy compressed air waves. That energy will still leak inside the armor." Bob replied. "So, we did some searching, and thought about the problem for a while. We had an idea that came up when we did some materials research and found this foam that possessed unique properties when electricity was applied to it. It would expand, and then contract when the electricity was turned off. Also, it did a really good job of absorbing shock, and would collapse as the shock was absorbed. This allowed the foam to collapse, and then re-expand once the kinetic energy was dispersed."

"What about claustrophobia?" Mike asked.

Bob nodded, "Yes that is a consideration, and we'd have to test everybody to ensure that they'd be able to wear this for a long period of time." Bob looked at Mike, "What about your team, can they handle this?"

Mike replied with a wry grin on his face, "We're all combat divers. When you're in a torpedo tube for a while, you quickly find out who's claustrophobic. So, no problems with that."

Mike thought, "What about urination and defecation?"

Bob nodded approval, "Most people don't think about that kind of thing. We didn't think about it for about a month. We started designing the tubes for food and water, when Tracy brought it up."

Mike thought about a mech armor suit without being able to use the latrine. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

"You'd smell worse than a diesel submarine from World War II," Bob said.

Mike didn't get the reference.

Bob noticed the blank look on Mike's face, "Sorry, my granddad was a submariner during World War II. They called them 'Pig Boats,' because of the smell after six months at sea. Bit different now a day."

Mike remembered the blueberry cobbler he had eaten on an attack submarine prior to an operation, "Yeah, much different."

"Well, what we did was ensure that all electronics are completely sealed, so if there is an accident, you can hose out the suit. But, we also rigged the personal suit so that you can relieve yourself without having to open the hatch. But to defecate, you still have to pop out of the suit and find a hole."

This didn't faze Mike. He'd dug many a cat hole on missions around the world. That was just part of soldiering.

"Communications are handled within the suit via Bluetooth connection."

Mike looked concerned, "Aren't you worried that somebody could block the signal."

Bob shook his head, "No, the signal is only transmitted inside the suit. The helmet you wear is tagged directly to one of the Mech suits. Here, let's walk over and look at one of the personal suits."

Mike and Bob walked over to the row of hangers. On it was a suit that looked like it was made of silk. It was constructed like a flight suit. It was black, loose and baggy around the arms and legs, but it tightened across the shoulders and chest. It had a zipper that started at the crotch and went up the front of the suit. There was also a belt incorporated into it. It was designed to be worn with ballistic armor. The crotch of the pants had a hard cup with a tube that dangled from the cup. Mike knocked on the cup with his knuckles.

"We had to put that on there, otherwise the foam gets a little too uncomfortable. Plus, we were able to put in the tube for drainage."

"And it drains out to where?" Mike asked.

"Well, it plugs into a tube on the suit, so it depends on the environment you're in. If you're in the desert, you can recycle. If you don't want to recycle, you can just drain it into the environment," Bob replied.

Mike didn't like the idea of drinking recycled urine. Still, if it kept him alive, he would do it. "So, is everything going to be black?" Mike asked.

Bob shook his head, "No, once this goes into production, we have a few different ideas. Another thing, this fabric is manmade, created from the modified DNA template of black widow dragline silk. Very strong, unlikely to tear or rip."

Bob picked up a helmet. The name 'Duggins' was inscribed on a plate on the right side, "You want to put it on?"

Mike took the helmet from Bob.

"The on switch is right there," Bob pointed.

Mike examined the helmet. It looked like a standard, full faced motorcycle helmet, but there was no visor to flip up. It was padded like a motorcycle helmet. When he looked inside the helmet, he couldn't see through the face plate. The outside of the helmet had small pits where the opaque material was replaced by what seemed to be small lenses. The helmet was dull black with no reflection. As he ran his hand over the outside of the helmet, it was completely smooth.

"Go ahead," Bob encouraged him.

Mike flipped the switch and then put the helmet on his head. There were two small tubes. One for water, the other for food, he assumed. The visor in front of his face flickered for a moment, and then turned on. He could see everything around him, as if he wasn't wearing a helmet at all. There was a small patch that acted as a rear view to the side of each eye. He could see 180 degrees plus about a 90-degree swath behind him. He couldn't hear anything but he could see Bob's lips moving.

As he thought about hearing Bob's voice, the volume of his surroundings increased until he could hear Bob talking. That was disconcerting, but Mike went with it. Mike turned his head and looked over where Lieutenant Pang and Everett were standing next to the Mech Suit. As he focused on Lieutenant Pang, the vision sharpened and moved in on her face. He quickly pulled the helmet off of his head, "This damn thing is reading my mind."

Bob nodded, "Yes, it is."

Mike looked at Bob, "That's just plain freaky."

Bob looked over at the group and caught Dr. Humphreys' eye. He waved him over. Dr. Humphreys walked over and started talking, "So, what do you think about the helmet."

"Freaky, Doc."

A small smile curled Dr. Humphreys lips at the contraction of his title, "Mike, we had to do it. We couldn't make the mech armor viable without the neural interface."

"What do you mean, Doc?" Mike asked.

"Well, we tried to make the Mech armor respond to pressure only, and it worked to a degree, but we weren't able to get the suits to move fast enough with contact pressure," he replied.

"So, you didn't have a good reaction time with pressure only?" Mike surmised.

"Exactly. The Mech armor moved like Frankenstein's monster from the old movies in the thirties and forties. And, frankly, I wouldn't want to put the lives of our Soldiers and Marines in danger with something that slow."

Mike nodded. He could definitely relate to that. If the Mech armor wouldn't move fast enough for combat, then it was a big boondoggle, a large waste of money.

"Because of that, we started experimenting with mapping brain wave patterns and movements."

A light clicked on in Mike's head.

"So, that's why we did all of the moving and calisthenics yesterday," he replied.

Dr. Humphreys face glowed at Mike's comprehension, "Exactly. With that data, we were able to map your neural activity with each movement of your body. And, the more we had you do, the broader a roadmap we have for your neural interface. With this roadmap, we're able to interface you with the mech armor for integration, which will allow you to fully control the suit. That plus the pressure as you move inside it allows you to move almost instantaneously, as if your mech armor was part of your body."

Mike pursed his lips and thought about this. These guys seemed to have thought about everything.

"Plus, you won't be able to do basic controls with your hands, such as flip switches, so you have to think about what you want, and have it happen."

Mike asked, "Such as?"

"Such as being able to talk over communications, zoom in your visual, increase your audio, turn on targeting, fire your weapons."

The last made Mike's ears perk up, "Weapons? These things have weapons? What kind of weapons?"

Dr. Humphreys chuckled, "Well, unfortunately you don't have the need to know, or have clearance for that information, so I can't tell you what kind of weapons."

Dr. Humphreys put his hand on Mike's arm, leaned in and looked into Mike's eyes, "Which is a shame, because it is just as cool as the Mech armor."

"Wicked," Mike whispered.

Bob shook his head, "Dr. Humphreys, you shouldn't tease him like that."

Dr. Humphreys winked.

Mike was really warming up to Dr. Humphreys and Bob.

Dr. Humphreys turned to Mike, "Would you please go ahead and put on the suit?"

Mike nodded, "Sure, I can do that."

Mike walked over and picked up a suit and then proceeded to a screened area to put it on. He took off his civilian clothes and put on the jump suit, stripping down completely. The jump suit stretched a bit and was sized to fit him, almost perfectly. The armored codpiece was odd, uncomfortable for him to arrange. He wondered about urinating in that suit. He hoped he wouldn't end up with a lapful of urine. However, if you can hose down the inside . . . no harm, no foul.

The body of the shirt was tight, and the sleeves and legs were loose. He stepped out from behind the screen. Bob was standing there with the body armor.

Mike could tell that it was made from the same thing as the mech suit. It was light compared to the ballistic armor that he had always worn. Plus, there was some kind of foam cushion behind the graphene plating. He assumed that it served the function as the foam in the Mech suit, to disperse energy from any hits on the graphene plate.

The other guys on the team drifted over to see the costume that Mike was dressed in.

"Sexy, I like the basic black look." That was Mickey, being his usual self. "You need a bow tie."

"Can I just get the t-shirt with the tux printed on it?" Mike asked.

"Heathen, I always wondered what Jo sees in you." Mickey stated.

"Well I can cook and I have a large . . ." Mike started.

"Bank account?" Lieutenant Pang asked.

Mike looked at her, a sad expression on his face.

"I'm just sayin'," she said as she pointed to the tube that was dangling from the groin armor.

Everybody laughed, even Mike. The team, Bob, Dr. Humphreys, Dr. Ed, and Lieutenant Pang were present. Everyone else was over at the Mech armor running diagnostics. Mike was getting a feeling about who the misfits and malcontents on the engineering team were.

Bob swept his hand toward the hanging outfits, "Gentlemen, if you please." The team members walked over, grabbed their clothes from the hangers, and went behind the screen to change, or stand in line to wait.

Everett made it to the screen first.

"Age before . . .," he started, "Wait a minute, that doesn't work," he finished.

"No," Tom said, "but it is appropriate, because I'm a beautiful man."

Bob chuckled, "No egos on this team."

Rob nodded, "In our line of work, a healthy ego is a good thing. It drives you to get things accomplished. Plus, it looms and kicks you in the ass if you start to lag."

"That's not the only thing that kicks you in the ass, amigo," Everett threw out from behind the curtain.

Mike grinned. Everett was an animal. He was older than anybody else on the team, and still did a four hundred on the extended Army Physical Fitness Test, or APFT. It didn't matter how much Mike trained, he still couldn't catch Everett on a run. That was one of the things that made Everett such a good team sergeant. He could kick anybody on this team in the ass if he felt they were half stepping. The only thing that he couldn't physically do was lift as much as Mickey could. But if it came down to a fight between the two, Mike's money was on Everett.

Mike spoke up, "We may be young, but Everett has one thing going for him."

Everett spoke up cautiously, "And that would be?"

"Young men are idyllic, old men are treacherous."

Everett stepped out from behind the screen, "Don't knock it, treachery is recommended by the greats, Machiavelli, Sun Tzu, Clausewitz."

Mike finished, "Stalin, Mao, Castro, Che, Pol Pot."

Everett conceded defeat, "Okay, you got me there."

Bob looked at the team of soldiers with new respect, "Wow, read much?"

Tom nodded, a mournful look on his face, "The bane of my existence. I can't figure out half the stuff they talk about." He had just finished dressing, the last of the team to do so.

The group was laughing as they walked over to the mech armor.

They arrived at one of the suits. Bob motioned for them to follow around to the left arm. There was a name tag on the forearm. It said Torres.

"How do I get up?" Rob asked.

Bob pointed out the cleats on the back leg and the hand holds that were present to allow him to climb up onto the back of the mech armor.

Torres started climbing up the leg of the suit.

"Remind you of any of your girlfriends, Rob?" Mickey asked.

"No, but it reminds me of a few of yours."

Mickey remembered that Lieutenant Pang was standing with them, "Ah, sorry Lieutenant."

"Don't worry, I have three brothers in the Marine Corps. You won't say anything that I haven't heard before," she replied.

Mike asked, "If you have three brothers in the Marine Corps, why did you join the Air Force."

She looked at him in all seriousness, "Because I have three brothers in the Marine Corps. I get tired of being treated like little sister whenever I'm around them. At least in the Air Force, I stand on my own merit. Plus, I don't think the Marine Corps needs a biomechanical engineer, and this project does."

" _Good on you,"_ he thought, impressed that the lieutenant wanted to stand on her own feet and not walk in the shadow of her brothers.

Mike watched as Rob climbed up to the opening in the back of the suit. He felt a tug on his sleeve. It was Lieutenant Pang.

"Are you ready to check out your mech armor?" she asked.

Mike nodded yes.

She smiled, "good, your mech is right over here."

She walked to his mech, which was the next to last in line. When she got there, she stopped, and did a move from 'Let's make a Deal' with her hands.

"And this is your new suit," she said.

"Why thank you, Vanna. You or me first?" he asked.

"I better go up first, that way I can get into position to advise you on getting into the suit," she replied.

It was easy for her. She scrambled up handily. She beamed down at him, "I've been practicing for a few weeks."

Mike replied, "I can tell, you shot up there like a squirrel after a nut."

"Well, youth has its perks."

Mike shot a dirty glance up at her, "Make sure you aren't in the way. I'd hate to 'accidently' knock you off of the mech armor."

She grinned.

He walked over to the leg of the suit and climbed up.

"See, that wasn't too bad, now was it."

He nodded, "Nope, not at all."

He took a few steps to the open door of the mech armor. Lieutenant Pang was squatting on the shoulders of the suit.

He looked in. The interior of the suit was a dark green, in contrast to the black that he was wearing, and the exterior of the mech armor

"You'll notice your body, to include your arms and legs, will fit entirely inside the body of the mech armor," she said.

He had been wondering about that. "So, how do I control the mech armor arm or leg?"

"Well, your control of the arms and legs will be based off of the slight movement of your arms and legs against the contact foam of the mech armor and your neural interface. Notice the separate tubes that your arms and legs fit into. These expand to keep you snug in the suit. Then, there are gloves in the suit, blue toothed. There will be a space large enough for you to move your hands. The suit tracks the movement of your hands. The suit will use the data produced to manipulate the mechanical hands on the end of the mech armor. So, in you go."

He maneuvered himself into the back of the suit. It had more room than he thought it would, but that would probably change when the foam expanded. Lieutenant Pang had a headset strapped to her belt. She pulled it off and put it on. Mike sat down and looked at the mech armor. It also had small pits that looked like the lenses on his helmet, but the camera lenses were all over the body of the mech armor. He pulled his helmet on and adjusted the chin strap. He hadn't turned it off, so it was still transmitting images to him. He lowered his body in, maneuvering his legs into the legs of the suit. He heard Lieutenant Pang in his helmet.

"Can you hear me, radio check, over?"

"Roger, I read you five by five."

He laid down on his stomach and pushed his head into the dome that comprised the head of the mech armor. As he looked at the inside of the dome, he noticed a panel at the front of it.

Lieutenant Pang started, "Okay, before the foam expands, we have a few things that need to be done. You see the heads up display on your helmet. Don't be alarmed, but when you turn on the mech armor, your helmet will be slaved to the cameras of the armor, and you'll see what surrounds the suit. But, until you turn on the suit, you'll just see the inside. Notice, you have a panel directly in front of your face. You can move your hand forward and touch the screen. Please do so."

He moved his hand forward to touch the screen.

She continued, "Okay, you notice a series of commands on the screen, correct?"

"Yes."

"What's the first command prompt that you see, and what color is it?" she asked.

"It says power, and the color is red."

"Okay, touch the prompt with your finger."

He did so, and the prompt turned yellow, and then quickly turned green. He felt a difference in the suit, though there was no sound. It felt like the suit was tensing in anticipation of being used.

"Okay, what's the next prompt?" she asked.

"It says, 'Hatch,' and the color is red," he replied.

"Okay, let me move," he heard her shift on the outside of the Mech suit, "Now, touch the prompt."

When he did, it turned yellow, and then green. He heard servos and he knew that the hatch was closing behind him.

"What's the next command?" she asked.

"It says, 'Lock,'" he replied.

"Okay, go ahead and touch the lock prompt."

He heard the locks seal when he touched the prompt.

"Now, just so you understand, if the suit powers down, the locks will disengage. The electrical system has to be on and working for the locks to stay engaged. This is to ensure you aren't stuck in the suit for the rest of your short life if you sustain extreme damage," she explained. "There's also a mechanical switch in case you need to keep the door shut. If you move around, you can feel it behind you. All you have to do is move the mechanical handle up, and the hatch is secure."

"Glad to hear that. I have plans for the rest of my life, and I don't want to waste them in a tin can."

"Carbon, not tin," she corrected.

He smiled, remembering his exchange with Bob.

"Now, you'll find a tube on the left side of your helmet, and one on the right side of your helmet. Ordinarily, you'd go ahead and connect them to the fittings on your helmet. You can take the time now to put them in if you want to, but it's not necessary."

"In for a penny, in for a pound," Mike said as he hooked them up into his helmet, "might as well go all the way with this."

Lieutenant Pang continued with the walk through, "Are you firmly seated?"

"Yep, I'm comfortable."

"Okay, now what does the next icon on screen say?" she asked.

"It says, 'Neural Interface,'" he replied.

"Okay, this is where you turn on the neural interface of the helmet, and it will take over for you. Now, go ahead and touch the icon for 'Neural Interface."

Mike touched the screen. The icon for neural interface went amber, and then turned green.

"At this point, you no longer need to use your hand to press the icons," she said, "Now, look at one of the icons."

Mike looked at one of the icons on screen. As his gaze lingered over the icon, it grew just a little bit larger, and turned a shade lighter, indicating that it was active.

"Did the icon change?" she asked.

"Yes, it did. Is that part of the neural interface?"

"Well, partially. The helmet tracks where your eyes are, and then you can activate the icon by speaking. As the neural interface gets used to your brainwave activity, eventually, you won't have to say anything."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, for instance, if you wanted to arm the weapons system, then you would look at the weapon system icon, and say or think, 'Weapons, Arm." That's the command to arm your weapons. The neural interface will only be able to help you make the armor move right now, but the computer interface will begin to learn how you control the machine, and eventually, you'll be able to do a lot of things without having to consciously think them."

He looked at the icon for weapons.

"Weapons, Arm." The icon started flashing amber, went to black, and then shifted back to red.

"Sorry, cowboy, no shooting today. What happened as you relayed the command?" Lieutenant Pang asked.

"Well, it turned from red to flashing amber, like the other icons did, and then flashed black, and then turned back to red."

Lieutenant Pang confirmed that the system was working correctly, "Yes, that's what it's supposed to do. The amber means that the system is running a check. Black means that the system is damaged, or not present. Red means that the system is offline or turned off."

"Damn, so no weapons on board," he replied.

"What, and have you burn down the facility. I don't think so."

Mike grinned, "So it's an energy weapon?"

There was a pause on the other end, "Please don't repeat that. You're not cleared for that information and it would end my career."

Mike said, "Mum's the word. I won't say a thing."

"Thanks, Chief."

"Please Lieutenant Pang, call me Mike."

She paused, then replied, "And please, when we're away from here, call me Jennifer, or Jen."

Mike said, "I guess your boss doesn't like his officers to use first names."

Lieutenant Pang replied, "It's not just him, we have a lot of junior Airmen here, and it's bad for discipline."

Mike nodded. He was so used to his team he sometimes forgot about the problems conventional forces had. Of course, this unit wasn't necessarily what he would call conventional.

Lieutenant Pang continued with her checklist, "Okay, so we have everything going well, all lights are green. Now, go ahead and stick your arms in the tubes."

Mike complied. He pushed his arms in. At the bottom of the tube, he could feel what seemed to be a glove.

"Okay, I have what feels like a glove down here."

"Yes, that's the control for the hand of the suit. Go ahead and put your hand inside it."

Mike put his hands inside both gloves.

"Alright, now once you have full control of the suit, you'll be able to make a fist, or grab with an open hand. You'll even be able to pick up equipment and throw it if necessary."

"Texas Rangers, here I come," he replied.

She chuckled, "Nope I don't think that a fifteen-foot suit of Mech armor would be allowed to play. It gives an unfair advantage to the pitcher."

He replied, "And the pitcher wouldn't have to worry about anybody charging the mound, either."

"That's very true," she answered.

"Okay, there are three more things we're going to do, and then we're going to break," she said.

"Break? I'm just getting started," he replied.

"You may be just getting started, but it's almost lunch time, and I want to get something to eat. I'm hungry."

"Food's a crutch."

"But it's a crutch that I like to use."

He conceded the point, "Okay, what are we going to do?"

"Well, you're going to foam up. See the icon?" she asked.

"Yes, I see it."

"Okay, go ahead and activate it. Just look at the icon, and say, 'foam activate.'"

He looked at the icon.

"Foam, activate."

He felt the foam expand around him. As it expanded, it didn't feel too uncomfortable. He could feel foam at the back of the helmet, but there wasn't any in front, or to the sides of his helmet.

"Hey, there is no foam in the dome of the suit," He exclaimed.

"We did that for a reason," she replied.

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Well, you'll see once you do two more things for me."

"Okay, I'm game, what's next?"

"Next icon, look for the icon that says, 'Engage.'"

"Got it, amber, now green."

The tension in the suit seemed to increase. There still wasn't any sound. The mech armor was strangely quiet.

"Okay, Mike, don't do anything else just yet. I have to get a thumb's up before we go to the next part.

"Roger, Wilco. Standing by."

Nothing happened. He lay there for a few minutes, and then he heard the Lieutenant speak again, "Now, Mike, I want you to slowly move your right hand. You'll find that you don't have to move much to get a reaction from the armor. You just have to make subtle movements, and think about moving your arm," she said.

"Uh, how do you want me to move it?" he asked.

"Just bend the elbow, not much."

He moved the elbow slowly and felt the mech armor shiver.

" _Damn, I hope I don't topple over,"_ he thought.

"Okay, that was good. Now push back and you want to shift your weight back on your legs and squat. No big movements. Remember, everything is multiplied."

Mike gently applied pressure and felt the mech move in the direction he wanted. He was trying to get the weight of the mech armor over the legs. He pushed back, and then he felt the armor shift and topple backwards.

"Lieutenant, get off the suit, I'm losing it."

"Chief, no worries, I'm already off. Everybody is far away from you. There's nothing that you can damage or that can damage you in your vicinity right now."

Mike was relieved. He felt the suit fall backwards, then he was lying on his back, the mech rocking. He stretched his feet down, and his arms out, so that the suit was lying on its back as flat as he could get it.

"Ah, this is disconcerting. I can feel my position, but all these cameras are messing with my concentration. I can see the arms and legs, but I'm having problems getting them to work correctly."

A man's voice spoke up. "Chief, can you hear me."

"Yes, I hear you," Mike replied.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do. We're going to shoot you a video feed of your suit. What I want for you to do is watch the video feed and try to move your arms and legs. Once you're comfortable with that, I want you to roll over the suit into a push up position. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yep, just give me the feed, and I'll see what I can do."

A window appeared on his head's up display. It was video feed of his mech armor on the ground, with a lot of people surrounding it, standing well away from it. The other four suits were still in their linebacker stance.

"Using me for the guinea pig, eh, Lieutenant."

"I don't like the phrase, 'guinea pig,' Chief. I prefer, 'experimental subject,'" she replied.

Mike watched the video feed. One by one, he experimented with his arms and legs. He started with the hands. He checked to see how much range of motion the armor gauntlets had. They bent forward very well, but the movement was checked as he tried bending them back. It was that way with both hands. Then he watched as he moved his arms around. He bent the elbow and saw how little pressure was needed to move the arms. The movement was quick and jerky as he started. The movement smoothed out with practice and the motion wasn't as rapid. The servos and the lightness of the mech armor didn't feel bulky, and the arms and legs felt unencumbered when he moved them.

He moved the foot of the mech. There wasn't as much play in the foot of the armor as there was with the gauntlet. He moved and bent the knee, and then pulled the legs toward the abdomen of the mech. The mech rocked, and he was able to sit up. With the legs of the suit straight out, he explored the range of motion by turning the shoulders of the mech so he could place the right hand of the suit on his left hip. Slowly, he worked different movements into the suit to see how the suit responded to him. Once he had an idea of what he could do, he set the suit in motion so that it rolled over onto its belly.

"Folks, I'm going to try and take this further than just the pushup position. I'm going to try and stand up in it. Are there any reasons why I shouldn't do this?"

The male voice spoke up again. Mike had the feeling it was Dr. Ed. "We have a go. If you think you can do it, then try to get it standing."

Mike put the hands down on the floor. He moved the suit slowly, experiencing the positions, the shift of mass, the individual positions of the arms and legs. He was getting used to the capabilities of the armor. The hands were covered with some kind of material that produced friction against the floor. He hoped that the bottoms of the feet were covered with the same material.

He felt comfortable with the way everything was moving and shifting. He pushed up off of the floor and moved one of the legs forward. The foot held in position. He moved the other foot forward. He stayed in that position momentarily, and then he tried to stand the mech armor up. The armor trembled as it moved. Then it was up, standing in an upright position. He stopped and stood still. He brought the arms of the armor down so that they were directly in contact with the sides.

He couldn't really hear it, but he could see the group of engineers and his team clapping as he maneuvered the suit up into the standing position, "Alright, I feel like I may have accomplished something today."

"Can you get it back into the linebacker position? We want to get you out of there and then its lunch time."

\--------------------------------------

Chapter Seven - Then

Things went well for the next two weeks. Mike's team integrated with the engineering team, and his team got to play in the mech armor. This was becoming a vacation. The team explored the area and found out that steak, both bison and cattle, were best when eaten in cattle country. Soon they were thinking about taking a trip down to Wyoming to see Jackson Hole and Yellowstone Park.

The only clouds in their sky were Jamison and Mitchem. Mike was in Mitchem's office at least twice a week getting bitched at for some perceived lack of respect for the scientists, engineers, and techs. He never heard any of this from the people he worked with in the play room. Mike got the feeling that Mitchem did it to prove he was superior to Mike. Mike occasionally saw Jamison in the hall on the first floor, but the psychotic little prick pretended he didn't exist. Mike took great pleasure in saying hello to him and wishing him a good morning. It was this back drop in which the next big blow up happened.

It was lunch time on Wednesday, their second week in Montana. Tom liked to go out to the rental car every day in the morning, get his cell phone, and call Barbara to find out how she and the kids were. Today, he was leaning against the rental car when he called home. Daniel, their youngest, was sick, and since he was sick, it wouldn't be long before the rest of the house was sick too.

Such were the problems that children encountered in school, where viral airborne diseases spread through the class like wild fire. One was sick, they were all sick. Being the loveable little disease vectors that they were, the families of those children were soon commiserating in snot laden misery. It sounded like Barbara was coming down with whatever Daniel had. So, Tom was commiserating with Barbara about what the rest of the week was going to look like for her.

"Hey, you can't lean against that car! That belongs to one of my workers here, you're going to scratch their car. What the hell are you thinking?"

Tom knew that voice and knew that he wasn't going to like what was coming next, "Hey baby, I need to deal with something. I'll give you a call back."

Tom hung up the phone and turned toward Director Jamison. The guy was blinking like a mole in the sun.

"Director, how are you doing?" Tom tried to be polite. A laconic man, he hated dealing with people. To him, they all seemed to be crazy. If it didn't involve his job or his family, he really didn't want to have to interact with them.

"What are you doing, leaning against that car? Somebody owns that car." Jamison pointed at the car as if it was the Holy Grail and Tom had defiled it.

"Ah, Mr. Jamison . . ."

"That's Director Jamison!"

Tom nodded, "Yes sir, Director Jamison, this is a rental car."

Jamison stopped, stunned. "Who gave you a rental car?"

"It's in our orders. We're authorized two rental cars."

Jamison didn't like that at all. "The hell you are! Who the hell authorized you two rental cars?"

Tom knew that whatever he said, it wasn't going to placate the director, "Well, anywhere we go, we usually have rental cars on our orders."

Jamison got into his face, his finger pointed at Tom's nose, "By God, that money better not be coming out of our account. We didn't have you sent up here to go sightseeing. I'm going to find out where that money came from, and I'm going to have those orders modified." Jamison turned around and walked to the building.

Tom stared, perplexed. "That is one sad, strange, little man," he murmured to himself.

He pulled out the phone and called Barbara back, told her what happened, told her he loved her, and hung up. Then he walked back to find Mike and tell him what had just happened.

About thirty minutes later, Mike came out of the building to go to the rental car and get his cell phone. He called Major Salk to give him a situation report.

Friday afternoon, they were coming out of the facility when 1st Lieutenant Jondreau, the officer in charge of security at the facility, met them outside the gate. He was military police, and all of the security personnel, to include the SSO was part of his purview.

"Chief Duggins, I have a message for you from Director Jamison."

Mike walked over to the young man. He took the piece of paper from the lieutenant and thanked him. He walked back to the team, reading as he walked. The lieutenant turned and went back inside the building.

"Damn it."

Everett looked at Mike, wondering what was going on.

Mike just shook his head and motioned that they should go to the cars. Mike, Everett, and Rob were in the same car. Mike turned to Everett and told him, "Well, I don't think we'll be able to go to Yellowstone this weekend. We have to work tomorrow."

Everett looked at him, "Really? I didn't know the engineers worked weekends."

Mike looked out at the countryside, "I guess they want to get as much time with us as possible."

\--------------------------------------

They showed up at Area 19 the next morning. Something odd was going on. When they pulled into the parking lot, it was almost deserted. Staff Sergeant Patrick Murphy, who was definitely not Irish, approached them when they got to security. He was as big as D'Inazio, but his skin was dark as mahogany. Other than that, they were bookends, down to the shaved scalp.

"Hey, Ebony and Ivory, you guys should sing the song," Rob quipped.

The Staff Sergeant looked at him with disdain, "Forgive me if I don't participate."

Rob looked back at him, "That's not too social."

"I'm not a social kind of guy."

Mike stepped up before things could get out of hand. He would hate for the Staff Sergeant to get hurt.

"Can I help you Staff Sergeant Murphy?"

"Yeah, your work detail starts in about ten minutes. We have a truck that's going to be pulling up. Do any of you know how to use a forklift?"

Mike was confused. He thought that they were here to work with the engineers and mentioned this to the Staff Sergeant.

Murphy looked at him like he was crazy, "Man, those people are officers and civilians. None of them work on the weekend. Right now, the only people out here are the security detail. Word was passed down that you'd be doing a work detail this weekend, so they scheduled a truck with supplies to come in."

Mike turned to Everett. Everett spoke, "It's not his fault. It has to be Jamison and Mitchem."

"That's Director Jamison and Lieutenant Colonel Mitchem," Murphy informed them.

D'Inazio placed his hand on Mike's shoulder, and said, loud enough for Murphy to hear.

"Mike, don't hurt him, he has his entire career, hell, his entire life ahead of him. He's a young man."

D'Inazio looked at the Staff Sergeant, "Staff Sergeant, you may want to move back behind your gate."

Murphy looked incredulous. He couldn't believe they were talking to him. He outweighed Chief Duggins by a good fifty pounds. He didn't think that skinny guy could do anything to him.

Everett cleared his throat, "Staff Sergeant, Mike has, what, 34 confirmed kills on this team, three with his bare hands, five with a knife. As you can see by the color red he's turning, discretion might be the better part of valor."

Murphy looked at Mike, and then looked at the rest of the team. He decided that his health might be improved with the security gate between him and the spec ops team.

Mike stormed out to the rental car, grabbed his phone, and called Major Salk at home. Major Salk called Lieutenant Colonel Bretscif, who called back to Fort Bragg. It went from there to SOCOM in Tampa, Florida. A three-star Army general called a two-star Air Force general who worked at SOCOM. That two-star started calling people. Then it rolled down hill, picking up speed, until it landed on Mitchem's desk.

\--------------------------------------

LTC Mitchem was livid. He was unaware that Jamison called the Army team in to work on a detail unloading a truck. The more he thought about the situation, the more he wondered what he ever did to deserve the idiot. When he heard about this project at his previous position in DARPA, he'd lobbied hard and pulled strings to get the assignment. Now he wondered if he would have a career when he was finished here.

That damn warrant officer. Who knew he had connections like that? When Mitchem arrived Monday morning, he received a message from his assistant to call a Major General Watkins as soon as possible, which, with that many stars, meant immediately. He spent the next thirty minutes being informed that it was a privilege for his facility to be hosting CW3 Duggins and his team, that they should be treated like guests; and that he better get Director Jamison on board, or they would both be out of a job. The team would be pulled from duty at Area 19 to be sent back to their unit.

There was a knock. "Come in," he said in a voice just loud enough to carry through the door.

The door opened and Dr. Randall was framed in the doorway. LTC Mitchem's blood pressure was already high, and he felt his blood quicken as she stepped through the door. She closed the door and walked over to stand close enough for her lab coat to brush against him. He could smell the perfume that she was wearing. She leaned in, her thigh pressing against his arm, and put a folder on his desk. She leaned forward, the curves of her body outlined by the shirt and skirt that she wore.

He knew that she was doing it on purpose, to give him a thrill. She was a master at pushing his buttons. Jessica would flirt with him using subtle, erotic movements designed to stoke his desire for her. What he didn't know, blind in his lust for her, was that everybody in the research facility was aware of their infidelities. Rumors were pretty fierce about the two. One of the Airmen on the security staff, sitting in a restaurant across the street, saw them enter a hotel together. Gossip flew through the research facility, and their interactions at work spoke volumes about the relationship.

Dr. Randall stood next to him and looked down into his eyes.

"Do you know what I have here?" she asked.

"I hope those are the results of the tests we've been conducting with the Army team," he replied.

She heard the tension in his voice. She placed her hand on his shoulder, "What's wrong?"

He inhaled, then exhaled, releasing tension, "Jamison has a hard on for the Spec Ops guys, and shit just went up the hill, and then came back down, landing on my back."

Randall looked confused.

He waved his hand to forestall the next questions, "Please just tell me that I can get rid of these damn Army guys soon."

Dr. Randall's mouth curved down slightly. She knew Mitchem's personality. It was so easy to seduce him. His ego led him to the bedroom, and then wrapped him around her little finger. She could respect a healthy ego, but he was beginning to get a little too needy about their relationship. She would have to reappraise their relationship. After all, she was one of the most respected scientists in the United States. With the neuromechanical interface, plus other projects she was working on, she was going to be able to write her own ticket in the future, and she wasn't sure what else she could leverage from the relationship.

She was smart, but unlike her peers that languished at dead-end jobs, she was political, and not afraid to use any tool at her disposal to get what she wanted. She became the lead on this project by twisting men to her agenda. Some she slept with, and others she merely flirted with. She knew power, and how to bend that power to her needs. While she enjoyed their exploits in bed, there was no way she was going to let his puffed-up ego ruin her chances of riding this to a professorship and tenure at UCLA. This research facility, while on the cutting edge of science, was missing some very crucial social amenities. She would kill for fresh sushi again. And nobody in Great Falls knew how to make a good martini.

Mitchem and Jamison were a pain, but they would make a very good reference for her future endeavors. She was only happy that Mitchem was here. She would have been very disappointed to have to sleep with Jamison to get what she wanted. That man was a worm. She was pretty sure he had some borderline mental problems as well.

"Yes, they're the test results, and the 'Army guys' have helped us make great strides in understanding how the neuro-net and the artificial intelligence are interfacing with a human test subject," she explained.

Mitchem saw the look in her eyes and didn't like what he saw. He ventured a simple question, "And?"

Dr. Randall knew she had him at that moment. When LTC Mitchem saw the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth, he knew he wasn't going to like what she was going to tell him.

"And," she offered, "We need to keep them with us for a few more weeks to fully integrate the neural net and artificial intelligence to them."

He shook his head, his hands flying up, palms out, like he was trying to stop what she was saying, "No, no, no! I'm not going to keep those clowns here any longer than necessary."

Dr. Randall stopped his protests with a simple look. He'd seen that look before and knew that she was digging her heels in on this one.

"It's very necessary to keep them for a few weeks longer. They're the best athletes we've ever had here. Their neuro-muscular development is something we only see in elite athletes. It is not like we can get elite athletes with the proper security clearances to work with us. These are the only soldiers that we could get with the proper clearances to bring in on this project. Besides, they understand what we're doing and why we're doing it. Most of the 'Army team' have science degrees in some academic fields that parallel the engineering team's own expertise. The Department of Defense, if they did a study of all the people in the DoD, couldn't have sent us better test subjects."

Mitchem continued to protest, even though, deep inside, he knew that he wouldn't win this argument. "I just had a Major General ream my ass because of them. And I have Jamison on the horn complaining about these yahoos! I just want to get rid of them. I won't have these cowboys in this research facility any longer. They have no respect for what your team is trying to accomplish. They don't treat your team with the respect it deserves. They don't even use proper titles for the people on your team. Hell, they call Dr. Nachman, Dr. Ed," he replied.

" _Yes, but they call me Dr. Randall,"_ she thought to herself.

"Dr. Nachman doesn't mind. He even has a bit of hero worship going for them," she said. "Hell, most of our team is awed by these guys." Dr. Randall continued, "Part of it is the fact that they're an elite team of commandos, and part of it is that they know geek speak. They feel like part of the research team. The research team loves these guys. Two of them went over to Luis' house to play video games with some of the younger guys. And, you can't argue with the results we're getting from the interface," she finished.

She opened the folder on his desk to the relevant pages. She knew he wouldn't be able to understand most of the results on the page, but he was able to grasp the charts that were trending up past the ninetieth toward the ninety-fifth percentiles.

He looked at the graphs before him, "How much longer will you need to keep them for this data to be complete?"

"I need them for at least four more weeks so that I can continue to monitor their integration into the mech neural net," she replied. "They're learning how to control the mechs but the neural nets are learning from them as well."

"And you can't do this with in a shorter time frame?" he asked.

"Not if we want the necessary data to do this with other soldiers. I need this baseline to compare other soldiers' rate of absorption into the neural net interface. With this data, we'll be able to do a comparative study and see which soldiers will be able to interface, and which soldiers won't. We'll save money by eliminating inferior soldiers who will never be able to interface with the suits. This will allow us to discriminate between the superior and inferior trainees. Plus, it will bring up the success rate for those that are interfacing correctly with the mech armor," she answered.

Mitchem was concerned by her use of the word inferior when talking about soldiers, but he didn't bring it up, "What's the rate we're trying to achieve with the power suit integration?"

"Well, we want the suit and the wearer to interface at one hundred percent if possible. But that percentile may not be attainable with the current programming. If we can get an interface of ninety-five percent across the board, I'll consider that a success story. But, if we can get higher numbers on the interface, that will be a better conclusion to the study.

"The other plus is their capability to work with the fabrication team. They're giving the engineers great ideas on additional storage for weapons, ammunition, explosives, and personal equipment on a daily basis. Those ideas have been incorporated into the armor. The only thing they couldn't figure out with the fabrication team was how to store the .50 caliber Barrett." She stopped, knowing that she had made her point.

He sat for a moment and considered what she was asking. He hated this infantry team. They were insubordinate, and to his thinking, unreliable. He couldn't argue with the data in front of him, however. Worse yet, he couldn't argue with Dr. Randall. Hopefully, the success of the program would distract from the problems between Director Jamison and the Spec Op team.

Those conclusions quickly moved to the back of his mind, however. As she spoke, she leaned against him. He could sense the closeness of her body to him. He could feel the curve of her breast against his arm. His adrenaline surged, increasing his passion for her. He was becoming erect. He could barely resist taking her on his office desk. She was completely different than his wife, Marie. This difference was another part of his attraction for her.

He studied the charts, pretending that he hadn't made a decision yet. He did this to extend the contact between them. Finally, he nodded, "I'll go talk to Jamison, and make sure that the team will be kept here longer. Jamison is going to have a fit. He'll have to make some calls. I'm not even sure if I'll be able to keep them here after this weekend. This will have to go through several commands to figure out if they can stay here longer. It will be up to the Generals at the Pentagon."

Dr. Randall made sure that the elation she felt didn't show on her face. She had won and gotten what she wanted, but it wouldn't do any good to gloat about it. To do so might bruise his delicate ego and could erase the victory she'd just won. If she gloated, then he would simply reverse his decision and ensure that Chief Duggins and his team were escorted off the base in record time.

To enforce the decision, she glanced at the door to make sure it was closed completely, then moved her hand to gentle stroke the back of his neck. He looked up at her, and she leaned over to give him a long, slow kiss. When she was done, she picked up the folder and walked to the door. She was not moving as quickly as she did when she came in, exaggerating the movement of her hips. As she opened the door, she turned and smiled at him.

"Thank you, LTC Mitchem. I appreciate your help in this matter," she said before she disappeared from sight.

His eyes lingered for a moment on the door. He knew at a basic level that she was toying with him. At the moment, though, he really didn't care. He could still smell her perfume lingering in the air. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth, ensuring there was no lipstick left on his lips. Then he looked down at his desk. There was a small note there. It said, "Tonight, 8 PM."

He looked at the note. He didn't have to ask where, he already knew. He picked up the phone and called Jamison. Jamison was going to be pissed.

\--------------------------------------

It was Thursday. Mike was a happy man. Three weeks was up tomorrow. He was flying back to Colorado and into Jo's arms for the weekend. He finished packing and had one set of clothes out for the trip. He and the team would leave the hotel early tomorrow morning to get the pallet loaded onto the truck. They'd finished strapping the pallet back together during the last hour of their work day, with most of the research team helping them to palletize everything. Dr. Randall was not there, of course, and Josh Weitz found something to keep him busy while everybody else did the heavy lifting.

He really enjoyed the company of the scientist and engineers on the research team. With a few exceptions, most of them were really good people. The two he didn't like were Randall and Weitz. He always felt that Dr. Randall was evaluating his fitness as a human being, and Josh Weitz was such a kiss ass that it was never a pleasure to be around him. Still, every person on the engineering team was extremely competent at their jobs. If there was one thing he could appreciate, it was their professionalism. Jamison and Mitchem aside, he would look on this as one of the best jobs he had the privilege to work on.

He would miss the rest of the engineers. Dr. Nachman and Dr. Humphreys were both great guys, and they got along famously with the team. Bob was Bob, enough said. The other engineers were just as welcoming. Luis Garcia and John Smith were both avid gamers, and it had been a pleasure to kick their ass playing 'Gears of War.' It was embarrassing when John took him out playing 'Call of Duty,' though. John had bragging rights and used them. Mike knew everybody's screen names for online gaming and would stay in touch with some of them that way. For the rest, he friended them online or got email addresses to stay in touch.

He enjoyed the lunches he had with Pang and her fellow tech misfits. Lunch was usually a big affair with the engineers spreading juicy gossip about Mitchem and Dr. Randall. Mike would definitely miss the lunches. As he thought about his time here, his cell phone started ringing. He walked over, turned down the TV, picked up the cell phone, and looked at the name that was listed. He hit a button and answered.

"Major Salk how is everything?" he asked.

"Mike, you know, you have a strange way of ingratiating yourself and your team with people, and at the same time, alienating people with significant clout," Major Salk answered.

"Is this about LTC Mitchem, or Mr. Jamison? I don't know what they've said, but we've bent over backwards to keep out of their way this week."

"Well, yes, in a roundabout way," Major Salk said. "It seems that somebody at that facility wants to keep you around for four more weeks."

Mike frowned. He and the team were more than ready to leave. He knew they were getting on Mitchem's nerves. Not that it took much to do so. Plus, Jamison was just psychotic, "How's that possible? I thought the head shed at Area 19 hated us."

Salk answered, "So did we. After that stupid decision to pull your weekend, make you unload trucks and put gear into storage for them, I personally wanted to come up there and rip their heads off. You should have heard the Sergeant Major when he heard about it."

"Is there any way that you can pull us, and get us back on mission?" Mike asked.

"Mike, there's nothing I can do about this. The request went through the highest levels of the Pentagon and came back down through SOCOM. There are more than a few stars, eagles, and oak leaf clusters that are involved with keeping you in place out there for another 4 weeks," Major Salk responded.

Mike cursed. With that many generals and colonels involved, there was no way the team would be allowed to leave the research facility, no matter what kind of idiocy the local command team engaged in.

"Yeah, that's what my reaction was. Captain Bostak is pretty pissed off that they're keeping you as well. He wants to get back into the training cycle with the entire team. So, plan on staying out there for four more weeks. Hopefully, you'll be finished in a month, and we won't get any more requests for you to stay. We have some urgent situations that we need to get you onto when you get back," Major Salk said.

Mike started to apologize to the Major.

"No, don't worry about it, Mike. I know this wasn't your idea, but it's cutting into your training time, and it would really be good to have you back. Especially in light of what's happening around the world right now."

After the phone call, Mike thought for a moment. He would have to call the team immediately and tell them to stop packing. But first, he needed to make an important call. He looked up the number and pressed enter. The phone on the other end started ringing, and he held it up to his ear. "Hey honey, have you ever been to Montana?" he asked.

\--------------------------------------

Chapter Eight - Then

Mike was happy as hell. Jo took vacation time to come see him and flew up for a week. He enjoyed seeing her face every day when he came back to the BOQ. She brought him a copy of the ultra sound, and he spent an hour with his head resting on her stomach, talking to the baby. Jo thought that was the sweetest thing she had ever seen.

Mike rented a car so that they didn't have to take one from the team to get around. On their last weekend together, they rented a cabin and went to Yellowstone for the weekend. She left Monday morning and flew out to the east coast for some time with both Mike's and Jo's families. She stopped in Georgia first to visit Mike's family, due to her father's busy schedule,

So now, Mike and the team were back at Area 19, and back to work in the mech armor. The power armor was now second nature to them. Today's exercise was to move as a team across the play room floor and use the internal map to track each team member and to monitor team kill zones. They used a standard infantry wedge formation and watched the interlocking kill zones on the map to engage imaginary targets fed to the A.I. by the techs. After each engagement, they would move into a circle for three hundred and sixty-degree security and watch as the kill zones shifted to encompass the new overwatch positions.

Mike was extremely impressed with what he had seen in the mechs. With his team's input to the software and the sensor packages, they'd come a long way to perfecting the capabilities of the power armor for future combat operations.

Red lights started flashing around the room.

"Hey, what the hell?" he asked, startled.

The rest of the team were looking at their displays, wondering what was going on. The engineering team looked concerned.

"What's going on? Does anybody have an idea of what is going on?" he asked.

Lieutenant Pang was the only person in the room that understood what the red flashing lights meant. But she wasn't going to announce it until she was sure that this wasn't a test or malfunction in the system. Her money was on a malfunction.

"Hang on, let me call up to security," she yelled, loud enough for everybody in the room to understand.

Mike and the team heard perfectly inside the mech armor. The suits could pick up the smallest noise and magnify it so that the team could hear what was going on.

Lieutenant Pang walked to the far side of the room where the desks were located and grabbed a phone and made a call. Mike turned up the sound so he could hear what she was saying.

"Yeah, I'm calling about a possible malfunction in the emergency system down here. All the lights are flashing." She was quiet for a moment. "What?" she asked. "What do you mean it isn't a malfunction? Is it a test?" She was quiet, listening to the person on the phone. The sensors were good, but Mike couldn't hear what was being said on the other end of the conversation. Pang didn't say anything and turned to walk back to the team. The look on her face wasn't good. She was alarmed.

"Folks, I don't want to scare anybody, but there's an emergency situation. Security is aware of what's going on, but they don't have time to explain everything to me. Evidently, there is an att..."

The world blinked.

\--------------------------------------

Dear Leader was coked up again, breaking bottles as he threw them around the room. He was partying with drugs and alcohol, watching Disney movies, and having sex with several of the little girls from the North Korean gymnastics team.

General Som Bak Yip was not pleased with the situation. The new Dear Leader, Kim IL Don, was not exactly the most comforting presence. Since his supply of fat, young, Chinese girls had been cut off, he had been rougher on the North Korean girls that he used. They were skinny. He didn't like skinny. If the girls didn't please, they and their families were executed. If they did please, Dear Leader kept them around until they didn't please him, and then he had the girl and their families executed. It was a no win situation for the girls, which explained the tears on their faces.

Kim IL Don had also been abrupt with the North Korean soldiers who had been careless, resulting in a cross border fire fight with a Chinese army patrol. General Som Bak Yip was not sure if this was because they had been caught, had created an international incident, or had not delivered the three Chinese girls that Dear Leader had been anticipating. The soldiers' bodies had been left rotting in an open grave, food for the crows and dogs.

Luckily, the Chinese Government and the international community didn't really understand how long this had been going on. There were only rumors about the boy's tastes during the wait for his father to die, and few knew about his more extreme appetites. If his father had found out about them when he was still alive, well, he wouldn't have really been upset. He would have just found a way to ensure that the girls were purchased quietly and efficiently for his son. What the father didn't understand was that the suspense of stealing the girls led to the psycho-sexual adrenalin rush of anticipation that his son felt.

Kim IL Don had a pistol in his hand and waved it around at the girls, shouting incomprehensibly, throwing empty liquor bottles at them. The girls were crying, wondering if they were going to live through the night.

Kim IL Don cursed and turned his back on the girls. He used the pistol in his hand to point at one of the guards and started to speak. The pistol went off, barely missing the guard. The guard flinched, but knew better than to say anything, standing very still while Dear Leader started laughing.

Kim IL Don grabbed one of the girls by the collar of her dress and started walking with her. He walked to and through the door, his arm around the girl's neck. The door slammed shut behind him. The General walked to one of the guards.

"Get servants in here to clean all this up. Make sure the girls are taken to the doctor to see to their needs. Send them to their rooms. Dear Leader may need their services later."

The General walked from the room as the guard rounded up the girls with barked commands and started herding them out the door on the other side of the room. The girls were still crying and whimpering, knowing that, just because they survived this encounter, it didn't mean that they were going to survive the next.

The General thought about the situation before him. He'd gone into the room to tell Dear Leader that the UN General Counsel meeting moved to instill more sanctions on North Korea. This time, neither the Chinese or Russian government used their veto powers to stop them. It was not a good time to be in the military in North Korea.

The General had money stored away in several off-shore accounts. He'd squirrelled it away for many years. He started the process when he saw the writing on the wall after the twin towers were destroyed. It had been done very carefully, because if anyone else found out, he would be a dead man.

As it was, he couldn't see the power structure of North Korea being able to weather another five years, let alone thirty. Odds were very good that the current Dear Leader was quite probably the last Dear Leader that North Korea would ever have to worry about. This possibility was starting to worry several of the senior North Korean officers.

After the demonstration Kim IL Don put on tonight, it was doubtful that Dear Leader would be around much longer. General Som Bak Yip would have to talk to the other senior officers about limiting Dear Leader's access to the special weapons program. Dear Leader's influence over some of the junior officers in the program was . . . disturbing.

\--------------------------------------

Kim IL Don was upset. Even in his coked-up state, he knew that his empire was collapsing around him. The economy, what little there was, was declining rapidly. The international community had instituted more and more sanctions against him. Because of this, it was getting harder to feed his army. The Chinese and Russians were starting to curtail their support for him as well. This was more disturbing to him than the sanctions from the international community.

The kingdom survived by keeping the Army happy. Most of the Army was totally devoted to its Dear Leader. It had been devoted and loyal for four generations of Dear Leaders. He'd been lucky that his brother and his brother's new wife had died in an airplane crash. It took finesse to ensure his father didn't find out his role in that. He was lucky, though, and he had help. Senior officers were upset with some of the new initiatives that his brother tried to implement, and anything that took power away from the senior officers was generally frowned upon by the officer corps.

He knew that his esoteric tastes in girls and the things that he liked to do with them caused trouble with the Chinese government. They'd looked the other way about a lot of things that had happened in the past. The economy in China wasn't working very well right now, though, and the Chinese media was being used to focus the attention of the Chinese people in any other direction that would take their minds off of Chinese internal problems.

By diverting the attention of the Chinese general population toward the situation with the North Koreans, they bought themselves another six months to try and fix thirty trillion dollars of debt, corruption, and a large real estate bubble. It was a fragile six months, but it bought time for the senior leadership to steadily move their own funds to offshore accounts. They needed this to manage a comfortable existence once the collapse in their own country began.

He'd been sacrificed by the Chinese to ensure that they had time to arrange for a better outcome to their circumstances. He raged as he walked down the hall, the little gymnast by his side. She cried as they walked. She was too afraid to do anything else. She was fourteen years old and only wanted to be with her mother. Dear Leader still had his pistol in hand, and as Dear Leader raged, he waved it around, scaring her.

They came to his room. He opened the door and pushed her inside. He pushed her down on the bed, walked over to the dresser and poured himself another drink. She was relieved to watch him put down the pistol to pour, hoping that he would forget it was there. He walked to an overstuffed chair and sat down. He drank the scotch and held the cold glass to his head. Suddenly, he noticed the little girl again.

"Make yourself useful," he told her.

She was still crying, but she nodded and stood up.

"Without the clothes," he ordered her.

She wasn't wearing much in the way of clothes to begin with, but she shrugged out of the gauzy lingerie that she wore. "What does my Dear Leader desire?" she asked in what she thought was a seductive voice. Both of them ignored the quivering undertones.

"You're a gymnast, yes?" he asked.

She nodded. She had to fight the impulse to cover her body with her hands.

"Then do something. Do a dance. Just do something," he told her.

As she danced, he tried to think. He blamed the Chinese for his predicament. Hell, his father had been worse than he was. The Chinese had been more than happy to procure girls for his father. Of course, his father was not as rough with them, and they'd returned to their families richer when his father was done with them.

His current problems were the fault of the Chinese government. His father had been more than happy to act as the cut out for the more violent worldwide programs that the Chinese were involved in. His kingdom, of course, made a lot of money from the transactions, and North Korea kept the Chinese government's involvement from being identified. Now they had abandoned him and he was furious. He knew that his senior officers would be meeting soon about the situation, about him. He might be a coked-up pedophile, but he'd learned the way of internal politics from his father. He had spies everywhere, watching everyone. He knew what was going on in his kingdom.

Superficial thoughts ran through his head as he watched the girl go through her routines. She was a good gymnast and quite flexible. He could tell that she would be a pretty woman when she grew up.

He was still upset, and the longer he thought about his situation, the more upset he became. Not even watching the little girl dancing helped. After stewing for a while, he finally decided to do something about it. He walked over to the wardrobe and started getting dressed. The gymnast watched this with interest when his back was turned. If he left, she might actually live through the night. If she was lucky, she might even leave the palace and go back to practicing gymnastics.

He slicked back his hair, and walked to the door of the room, the girl, the booze, and the pistol completely forgotten. He walked out and told one of the guards to get a car ready for him. The young soldier ran off and made sure that the commander of the guard knew what was happening. They had the motorcade ready for him by the time he got to the door leading out of the building.

He walked out and the leader of the security detachment asked him where he wanted to go. He told the young officer, and then settled into his personal car. As he seated himself in the plush interior, he was focusing much better. His thoughts were directed toward one goal, so his focus was becoming quite intense contemplating his next course of action.

The motorcade started moving and they drove north. They were going to one of his favorite places in the world, the one thing that kept the rest of the world at bay. He knew that as long as he possessed nuclear weapons, the rest of the world would never be able to do anything to him. It was his own senior officers that worried him, though. He needed a purge, and he could only do that if his kingdom was secure. There was only one way to ensure this. The Chinese needed to know that he was a serious man. The Chinese politburo would have been concerned had they known what he was thinking, and never have imagined his intent, not with the relationship that China and North Korea had enjoyed for so long.

The rest of the world knew about North Korea's nuclear weapons program, and they knew about the missile program. What they didn't know about was the No Dong missiles with nuclear warheads on them. While there were some critical ideological differences between North Korea and Pakistan, they'd collaborated for some time to ensure that both had the capability to launch nuclear missiles at their enemies. The collaboration between the two countries had been very beneficial.

China, however, didn't understand how beneficial. China, while it had spies among the North Koreans, didn't know the full capabilities of the North Korean nuclear program, because the North Koreans had been feeding disinformation to the Chinese for some time now. Right now, the Chinese thought that it might be another ten years before the North Koreans possessed a viable nuclear missile.

Dear Leader mulled the situation over and started feeling better, not fully realizing the consequences of the speculations induced by his drug addled state. Once the Chinese understood the strength and resolution of North Korea and Dear Leader, though, they would once again respect him and his country. Then they would listen and do as he told them.

He pulled a small vial and spoon out of his pocket. The nice thing about being a dictator was that he had access to all the good drugs. He had his own personal lab and chemists who ensured that he had the finest, purist drugs available. On the way to the nuclear facility, he did some coke, a hit of ecstasy, and washed it down with more scotch. He was weaving when he entered the facility that housed the command of his nuclear forces. He borrowed a pistol from one of his personal security detachments to remove a few obstacles, their bloody bodies speaking loudly to the rest of the personnel in the building, and his security detachment ensured compliance with his further instructions.

It was only later, when the Chinese saw the lone missile launch from North Korea, that they took the North Korean leader seriously. By that time, it was much too late to do anything about the situation. The single missile took the entire world by surprise. The target selection was even more disturbing, at least to the Chinese. It was headed directly toward Beijing. Although officials in the politburo knew where the missile was coming from, the ones that knew were more concerned about saving their own skin than they were about stopping retaliation against anyone else. As they scrambled to get out of Beijing, the rigidity of the Chinese command structure came into play. With no counter orders, the Chinese Strategic Missile command had a series of orders that they followed. Because of this, mutually assured destruction was very much ensured.

Even though it was a lone missile, because of submarines, the Chinese Military was not sure which country launched it. In their wildest dreams, they couldn't imagine that the missile had been launched at them from North Korea. More than one officer was trying to convince themselves that it was a launch from a United States or Russian submarine in the Sea of Japan. More than one Chinese officer was cursing the Japanese and Taiwanese as well.

Chinese nuclear missiles filled the air as they launched toward targets in foreign countries. Nuclear missiles launched from China and headed to Russia and the United States. They, in turn, launched everything that they had in their inventory. Prayers filled the air, but none were answered.

Ten years prior to the launce, a Chinese scientist attached to the Peoples' Republic of China nuclear program watched a DVD about a super volcano located in North America. After watching it, he contacted his superior, a general officer in the Chinese army. The scientist did a presentation to several senior officials and generals. They brought in several prestigious geologists with backgrounds in vulcanology from different Chinese universities and explained to them how their families would be killed if they ever talked about the subject material discussed.

After the geologists left, there were several papers produced, and many scientists and officers were asked for their opinions on the subject. Once everybody concurred, three nuclear missiles were retargeted. Those three missiles flew an eight-minute trajectory, targeted for Yellowstone National park just outside of Jackson, Wyoming. They were aimed at the Yellowstone Caldera. The targeted areas doomed the personnel at Area 19.

\--------------------------------------

Yellowstone is an active volcano. Most people in the United States were unaware that an active volcano capable of extinguishing a great portion of life on the planet was one of the United States most popular tourist destinations. The entire park is comprised of a huge volcanic caldera that was shaped over a time period of 2.1 million years. The caldera itself was thirty-four by forty-five miles wide. The caldera was mainly shaped by three large eruptions, one at 2.1 million years ago, one at 1.3 million years ago, and at 640,000 years ago. The most recent eruption was a smaller steam explosion 13,800 years ago.

The hotspot that created the super volcano has been moving east as the North American plate moved west across it, which created the Snake River Plane. The most energetic eruption was the one 2.1 million years prior, which produced 2,500 times more ash than the 1980 Mount St. Helens eruption. Recent studies concluded that it was unlikely that the super volcano would erupt, and indeed, might be slipping under thicker crust that wouldn't allow it to explode until it created another hotspot further east.

This all changed as the nuclear bombs ripped into the crater, cracking the underlying geologic strata, making the rock underneath bow down as it absorbed the energy from the radiation and overpressure of the nuclear explosions. It took moments for the energy to be redirected as the floor of the park cracked, and the ash exploded into the sky.

Malmstrom Air Force base was hit by two nuclear bombs, one from Russia, one from China. The Air Force base and the town of Great Falls, Montana turned into a tortured, desolate nuclear ruin before the volcano destroyed the landscape. Lava bombs peppered the land as far as two states away.

A ridge of rock south of Great Falls redirected the pyroclastic flow away from the Great Falls and Malmstrom AFB area to the east. But, the area was not spared. The pyroclastic flow moved to the west down the valleys carved by the Madison, the Gallatin, and the Jefferson rivers, across Canyon Ferry Lake and onto the Missouri River. The current of hot gas and rock known as tephra, reaching temperatures of 1,800 degrees Fahrenheit, flew across the top of the water, and moving at 450 miles per hour, destroyed all life and any sign of human habitation.

The area around Area 19 was devastated, irradiated and shattered by nuclear weapons. Then the pyroclastic flow completely covered everything in the area. There was no indication that any life had ever been present. As the ash cloud exploded from the super volcano that used to be Yellowstone National Park, it settled and buried the Air Force base in cement like particles that combined with the steady rain that the ash particles induced from the atmosphere. Lightning skipped along the ash clouds, highlighting the hellish landscape that used to be the Missouri River Basin.

\--------------------------------------

### Chapter Nine- Now

Mike threw up. It wasn't much, but inside the helmet, it threatened to overwhelm him. Mike never threw up. He didn't get motion sickness, he wasn't afraid of enclosed spaces, and he had a stomach made of iron. With vomit in his helmet, he had to breathe through his nose, trying not to suffocate. Mike's visual input was blank, and he couldn't see any ambient light. He felt the armor tip and fall. He cursed as he realized that he couldn't control anything.

The mech hit the ground with an impact that he felt inside the armor. The armor slid as it rocked against the floor. The floor around him trembled as the armor slid. He felt an impact, and his helmeted head smacked against the side of the armor, but the impact wasn't significant enough to hurt him. He felt his mech armor slide to a stop as friction from the floor overcame his momentum.

Panic hit as he realized the vomit wasn't draining out. The vomit shifted in his helmet, getting into his nose. He pushed the panic down, knowing the emotion was more likely to kill him than the vomit. Luckily, the electrical power in the armor had shut down, and the foam that held him in place deflated as electrical current no longer flowed through it. He controlled his fear and held his breath, trying to keep more vomit from entering his nose.

He waited a few seconds as the foam collapsed and his body and arms were no longer held in place. He was able to move his hands and arms so that he could ease the helmet off his head and away from his face. He wiped the slick, foul vomit away from the helmet and his face with his hand, and he blew his nose, trying to get it out of his sinuses. He took in a deep breath, then another, and repositioned the helmet back on his head. The smell was horrible. The audio in the armor wasn't working, and he couldn't hear anything around him. As the armor rocked in its new position, he hoped that everybody on the floor was able to get out of the way.

He was disoriented as the sensors and heads up display kicked back on, blurred by the remnants of the vomit. He needed to talk to the engineering team and about a better configuration for the helmet to handle projectile vomiting, just in case. Then, the foam in the armor start to re-inflate, startling him.

From the view and the cacophony that he was hearing in the audio, he wasn't the only person that had experienced the electrical failure. Emergency lights were flashing red. Battery backup lights momentarily spread a dim white light through the large room, then the overhead lights flashed back on, and the backup lights turned off, flooding the large room with white light although the red emergency lights were still flashing. Electricity had been restored.

From this position, it was hard for him to see what was going on. He could hear groans and shouting as people started dealing with their new reality.

"Radio check, radio check, can anybody read me, over?" Mike broadcasted. The team came back with, "Roger, Lima Charlie," or with, "Roger, Mike, I have you five by five."

"SITREP, over," Mike ordered. The entire team came on, in sequence from Everett, through Mickey, Rob, and Tom. None of them reported any injuries, the armor seemingly had protected them all. He asked them if they had experienced the same system failure that he had, receiving affirmatives from the rest of the team.

"Does anybody know what just happened, over?"

The team all replied with a quick, "Negative," on the radios.

"Can everybody do an emergency exit from their armor, over?" he asked. Everybody on the team replied that they could except for Everett.

"Chief, that's a negative. I'm currently laying on my back. I cannot do an emergency exit from the armor. Over," he replied.

"Roger, Everett. Can you roll so that you can expose the armor's back? Over." Mike asked.

"Chief, I'm concerned about moving around. From what I can see on the display, it's chaotic over here. I hear people around me, but I can't see them. I'm afraid that if I try to roll, I may crush somebody. Over," Everett reported back.

"Roger, Everett. Just stay put and we'll do a quick recon to ensure that there's no one around you. Out."

Mike gave the command for the rest of the team to do an emergency shutdown. As the power shut down, the foam started deflating again. Mike pulled the lever that disengaged the lock to the door. Quickly, Mike and the rest of the team exited their mechs and stood among the displaced equipment which had shifted across the room, strewn haphazardly across the floor.

The floor was now at a five to ten-degree tilt. From what Mike could see, the entire room was still intact. People had fallen and tumbled to new positions across the floor of the play room. People were yelling and groaning, and a few weren't moving. Dust from lights and rafters sifted slowly down to the ground, giving the room a smoky look.

Mickey grabbed his medic bag from the armor and ran to members of the engineering team to take care of any injuries. The rest of the spec ops team moved among the debris to help the engineers and techs, helping those who were able to stand, and evaluating injuries. As the team found people that were moderately to seriously injured, they called for Mickey to come over and evaluate.

Mike climbed the debris and walked to Lieutenant Pang. She was at a phone on the wall, trying to call through to other floors.

"What the hell just happened?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she answered.

"Are you able to talk to anybody?"

"No, not yet, nobody's answering," she replied. "I can't even get a dial tone on this thing."

"What do the flashing red lights mean?"

Lieutenant Pang hesitated for a moment, then answered, "Mike, if the red lights are flashing like that, that means that we're being attacked."

Mike had a confused look on his face, "Attacked? You mean by terrorists?"

She shook her head. "No, there's no way a terrorist could make it down to our level. I'm talking about a nuclear attack."

Mike felt his body go cold. "Oh God, Jo, are you okay?" he thought. His face must have mirrored his thoughts. He could see the concern in Lieutenant Pang's face.

"What do you mean, a nuclear attack?" he asked. Some of the civilians were gathering around. Mickey was moving through them to take care of cuts and abrasions.

Dr. Nachman spoke, "Mike, you have to remember, this entire area was created in response to the cold war. They closed these missile silos after the Salt II treaty. Originally, they were going to be used as living quarters for the general in charge of the 341st Space Wing. We took them over because it was expedient for us to use them. We could use them without fear of anybody finding out what we're doing down here. We were especially anxious about some of the research we're doing here falling into the hands of other nations that don't have our best interests at heart."

Mike Crandall broke into the conversation, "Who can tell us what's going on?"

Lieutenant Pang looked at him. "Security are probably the only ones that can tell us what's happening here," she explained.

Mike mulled over everything, "We're still alive, though. Doesn't that mean that the nuclear strike didn't happen?"

Lieutenant Pang shrugged her shoulders. "I talked to security when the red lights started flashing, and they confirmed a nuclear strike was imminent, but then that weird thing happened, and I haven't been able to get through to them since.

"What weird thing?" Mike asked.

Lieutenant Pang held her hands together then brought them apart and spread her fingers at the same time, "You know, the . . . Blink." She was unsure of herself. She wasn't sure if she imagined the incident, or if the incident was actually real.

Mike felt relived. He'd thought that the unusual physical sensation hadn't been part of the electrical shutdown of the suit, but he didn't know for sure. If it had just been electronics, he wouldn't have vomited. He didn't know if he was going crazy, or if others experienced the same sensation. Now he knew that others had experienced the same thing, when reality stopped and then started again.

Mike nodded, putting his hand on her shoulder, "yeah, okay, I understand."

The relief was visible on Lieutenant Pang's and Dr. Nachman's faces, knowing that they weren't the only ones that experienced that unsettling nothing.

"I don't have enough information to be able to answer whether or not the nuclear strike happened," she replied.

Mike heard a voice in his ear. It was Everett, "Mike, are all civilians are out of the way, I want to go ahead and right my mech."

"Wait one, I need to clear with Lieutenant Pang. When you start, be careful, the floor has about a five to ten-degree tilt to it," Mike explained.

Mike turned to Lt. Pang. "Do you think it will be a problem?"

She thought about it for a split second, "It shouldn't be, the mech armor was designed to operate on uneven surfaces."

Mike turned and yelled at the crowd, "Everybody, move away from the mechs, Everett is going to try and maneuver so that he can get out of his armor." This announcement was followed by a number of people scrambling to move further away.

He waited for everybody to clear, then he got back on his comms, "Everett, you're a go for righting your armor. Everyone's out of the way."

Everett started rocking the armor so that he could roll over. The mech armor was extremely maneuverable, but being on its back, Everett needed momentum to get to a new position. Mike watched in awe as he usually did when the other members of his team were in the armor practicing complex maneuvers. Over the weeks of practice, they were able to make very human movements in the armor. The neural interface went a long way to make the mech armor react like an extension of their bodies. The amount of flexibility they had in the armor was rather impressive.

Everett rocked, and soon he was on all fours, then stood up at a slight tilt to make the armor go vertical. The armor hesitated, and then Everett seemed to make a decision. He walked the armor over to the wall that the floor now sloped down to. He maneuvered the armor so that the butt of the mech armor was braced against the wall, and then he went into the linebacker position that the armor was normally stored in. It was amazing to see the huge mech armor walk like a normal human being. The armor crouched down, and soon the door popped open. Everett climbed out to join everybody on the floor.

Mike turned to Lieutenant Pang, "Are all of your team accounted for?"

They did a quick head count and the only person that wasn't there was Jim Wright. Everybody searched among the detritus of pelican boxes, electronics and crates. It was hard moving up and down the room, now that everything was on an angle. They found Jim at the far end of the rubble. He was the victim of the rolling platform. It had toppled on top of him and knocked him out. Mickey brought his bag over and started administering aid. It was a head wound, so there was blood everywhere. Members of the engineering team looked queasy at the sight of blood, but Doctor Humphreys, a neurologist, waded in and helped Mickey to stabilize the victim.

Tracy Sheffield started crying. Bob Leitz put his arm around Tracy and steered her away. Mike and his team were not affected by the sight of the blood. They had seen plenty of carnage during operations. Mike spoke up, talking to comfort the civilians. "Don't worry Mickey, will stabilize him. He's an accomplished combat medic."

As Mickey worked, Mike looked around. Equipment was scattered, broken. He looked at the elevator and stairwell. Then, he looked in the other direction, where the service elevator was. He walked across the large floor to the passenger elevator and pressed a button. The doors didn't open. He waited for a few minutes, and they still didn't open. A crowd gathered as he waited. Mike turned around and saw the worry on their faces, "I guess that isn't going to work for us then."

He walked to the stairwell and opened the door. The stairs were in one piece but settling in a new angle. The stress had produced cracks in the concrete as it settled. The team followed him in, and behind them, the crowd as well. The stairs were at a crazy angle, but they could still be climbed. As Mike looked around the stairwell, he started talking to Rob. "Rob, I need you and Tom to check out the other floors and see what's going on. Go up to security and see if you can talk to anybody up there and find out what's happened."

Rob nodded his agreement, and moved into the stairwell, "I think Tom and I'll be able to go up and evaluate the floors."

Mike nodded, "Get anything you need from the supplies. We're going to have to move all the civilians up eventually, and this may be the only way to get out. Check and see if you can get into the elevator shaft. That may be easier to use to get supplies and people to where we want them. Right now, I'm going to start treating this as if we're on our own until help gets here."

Both men moved out of the stairwell and over to the pallet. Everett was laying out supplies for easier use. Rob and Tom started rummaging among the supplies for lights and other needed equipment. Mike looked around at the chaos. Some of the coke machines had fallen over and soft drinks dripped onto the floor. Mike hoped it wouldn't have to come to it, but they might have to scavenge among the machines for cokes and food. They would have to open them to see what was left.

Lieutenant Pang moved the civilians to an area where there was less mess. Tracy had stopped crying, but her eyes were still red, a handkerchief crumpled up in her hand. They all looked expectantly at Mike. None of them had been in a situation like this before. Mike and his team had never been in a situation quite like this either, but they were used to dealing with extreme situations. Mike nodded at the crowd. A few nodded back.

"Well, it's not too bad right now. We have some food on the pallet. It's isn't anything fancy, just a few boxes of MREs. I sent Rob and Tom up the stairwell to see if we can move out of here and they're also going to check on the other floors for people. I'm hoping we can get everybody moved up to the surface, or at least to the offices on the other levels, so that you'll be more comfortable."

This made sense to the engineers and techs, and they nodded their agreement.

Lieutenant Pang spoke, "We have more MREs down in storage. We keep them down there in case of emergencies or security lockdowns."

Mike's face lightened at this unexpected good news. He looked at the faces before him. They were in shock. He had seen it before, in combat, on soldiers' and civilian faces, "Is there anybody that needs further medical attention?"

A doctoral student in chemistry named Joe Oaks raised his hand, "I twisted my ankle."

Mike nodded, "Okay, I'll have Mickey check it out when he has a moment." Mike knew that he needed to get them working, to take their minds off of the situation, "My team and I are going to need some help."

This startled a few of the civilians. Mike and his team were very self-sufficient. That he would ask for their help was not something that they'd contemplated, "We need to straighten things up here. If you could clear the debris and move it toward the other wall, it will make it easier for us to work and layout equipment and supplies."

Josh spoke scornfully, "Why? Why are we going to do that?" he asked, the ice in his voice apparent to everybody. "The military and civilian authorities will send a rescue team. They'll be here to help us. We don't need to do anything except wait." He took his cues from Randall, Jamison, and Mitchem, trying to ingratiate himself with the trio.

Mike nodded, unwilling to make an enemy right now, or at least antagonize one further, "You might be right, Josh. However, you may not be right. Lieutenant Pang said that the red lights indicated a nuclear strike. No one has been able to verify this, yes or no, so we may be on our own."

Lieutenant Pang nodded, "I talked to Lieutenant Jondreau before everything happened. He confirmed it was not a drill, that an actual nuclear strike was imminent. He didn't tell me from where the nuclear strike was, or how many were launched. But he did say it was definitely a nuclear strike."

Mike continued, "So, we have no idea when rescue crews may arrive. They may be busy helping civilian casualties on the surface." The people in the crowd looked uneasy at this prospect. "We need to be self-sufficient until we're rescued, or until we can get ourselves out of this underground room," Mike finished.

Dr. Humphreys spoke, "Mike, don't forget about the service elevator. It leads directly to the surface. We may be able to get out through that."

"True, but with the angle this building is tilted, the elevators probably aren't going to work, and getting the door open to the service elevator may take some doing. Plus, there was that large, concrete dome on top that may have closed because of the nuclear strike. Right now, we need to concentrate on improving our living conditions, to make this more bearable for the time being. Part of that is securing supplies and moving debris out of the way." Mike continued, "We have a box of wag bags, but we'll run out of them if we're down here for long."

Some of the civilians looked confused. One guy, a young man named Jacob Williams, who was a machinist, raised his hand. Mike looked at him and smiled, "No need to raise your hand, just ask."

Jacob nodded, and asked, "What are wag bags."

Maria Roberts, an electrical technician, laughed and said, "I'm glad you asked, I didn't know what it was either." This confession brought smiles from others.

Mike answered, "It's a plastic bag to defecate in. If the latrines are not working, we may have to use them." Mike raised his hands in supplication, "Please, if the water doesn't flush, don't use the toilets. That could get very messy and smelly, not to mention a way for disease to flourish. Come to us, and we'll give you a wag bag, and instructions on how to use them."

"What if we have to recycle?" Lieutenant Pang asked.

Some of the civilians had a look of horror on their faces at this idea.

"You mean, drink our own pee?" Josh asked, an incredulous look on his face.

Mike beamed a smile at the crowd before him, "You guys weren't too concerned about that when you set up the recycle system in the mech armor for us."

Tracy blushed and some of the techs looked sheepish when he mentioned that. Mike continued, "Hopefully, with those soda machines, we can avoid that for a while. If not, then we'll have to start using buckets to collect, and we have a filter that we can use to strain it."

Some of the civilians had very unhappy looks on their faces. He could see they were starting to understand that the situation was serious, especially if people were talking about drinking their own urine.

Josh exploded, "There is no way that I'm going to drink urine."

Mike made sure he had a neutral look on his face, "That's your prerogative. I'm hoping that it doesn't come to that. Once we filter it, though, it's not urine anymore, it's water." The expression on Mike's face indicated that he really didn't care what Josh thought or did.

Mike didn't like the situation with Josh. Josh not the most helpful person. He made snide remarks when Mike and the team were around and he had to work with them. He was a major ass kisser to Randall and Mitchem, which didn't endear him to Mike either. Personally, Mike didn't care if Josh died of dehydration. One less asshole in the world.

Josh got up and walked away from the group, toward the wall that had the service elevator on it. He was muttering as he moved away.

Pang yelled after him, "Josh."

Garcia, one of the electrical engineers intervened with Pang. He held up his hands up in a conciliatory gesture and started to move off in Josh's direction. Smith got up and walked in that direction as well.

Bob slapped his hands on his knees, "Well, I guess that means that we need to get cracking on the rest of it." The rest of the crowd nodded and moved to tackle the debris in the room. Some of them started picking things up close to them, moving in groups as they tackled the wreckage to see what was still serviceable.

Pang moved toward Mike, "Mike, I don't know what the hell happened, but I don't think a nuclear strike would be able to make the entire complex tilt like this. Not without major damage occurring. I mean, it's a major geological event for something like that to occur. We're at least a hundred feet underground at the first level of this complex. It couldn't have been a direct strike on us. A direct strike would destroy our small installation."

Mike agreed with her, "Yeah, I know, something's definitely not right with all this. Until we find out what it is, we need to make sure nobody panics."

\--------------------------------------

Mike walked back to the pallet. It was propped against the down angle wall, and Everett and Mickey had it shimmed with pelican cases to level it somewhat. The tech, Jim Wright, was in a sleeping bag on an air mattress to keep him comfortable. Jim's eyes were open, and he was talking to Dr. Humphreys, who was testing him to make sure he didn't have a concussion.

Everett and Mickey walked up to him. "What did the brain trust have to say?" Everett asked.

"Not much. They're as confused about everything as we are."

Everett nodded, "I can imagine. I don't know how this could have happened without us feeling anything at all. The entire floor shifted at least ten degrees. One minute everything was normal and then everything just changed. How the hell does that happen without a major disaster? Would we have felt an earthquake or seismic shift like that? This entire vault is surrounded by dirt and rock. It just doesn't seem possible."

Mike shrugged his shoulders, "Honestly, your guess is as good as mine is. I have no damn idea how any of this could have happened."

Everett got quiet for a moment, then he spoke, looking concerned, "Mike, did you experience anything weird?"

Mike looked at him, "You mean the part where everything just didn't exist, and then it did again? Yeah, that happened to me as well."

The relief on Everett's face was telling. "Thank God, I thought I was going crazy."

"No, you aren't crazy. I think we all felt that."

Mickey spoke up. "Hey guys, I'm going to pull our cots out so that people can lay down if they need to."

"Good idea. Hey, Joe twisted his ankle during the . . .," Mike stopped. He didn't have any way to describe what happened.

Mickey continued for him, "You mean the incident?"

Mike chuckled, "Yeah, the incident. I guess that is a good way to describe what happened."

Mickey grabbed his medic bag, "No prob, I'll go and check him out and make sure he's okay."

Mike watched Mickey walk over to the techs. He got to Joe, knelt down, and started probing the ankle to see how bad it was.

Everett spoke, "I have most of the equipment pulled into three piles, food and water, personal bags and supplies, and weapons and munitions."

Mike nodded, "Good idea. If anybody needs anything, give it to them, but make sure that nobody is hoarding."

Everett grunted as he lifted a pelican case, "Yeah, and I'll keep the cool toys and munitions away from the kiddies so that they don't hurt themselves."

Mike nodded, "Yeah, good idea. I'm more concerned with them accidently hurting us than I'm about them hurting each other or themselves, though."

Mike grabbed a small pack that had a flashlight, his Sig .45 pistol with extra ammunition, and a bottle of water. It was his standard day bag when he moved around foreign countries, looking for the bad guys. When the team was extended at Area 19, Mike had talked to 1st Lieutenant Jondreau and Captain Dickerson, pointing out that the team had more weapons and munitions in the play room, and the pistols wouldn't make any difference. He'd received permission to bring the weapons in when the team came to work. They weren't able to wear them on their belts, so they carried the pistols in their day bags. Personal electronics, like their e-readers, e-music players, and computers were still left in the rental cars.

"I'm going to go check on Rob and Tom. Maybe they found something that will explain all of this."

He turned to Everett. "I'll let you know if we find anything up there."

Everett nodded.

\--------------------------------------

### Chapter Ten – Now

The engineering team worked to shift the debris. The equipment was moved and stacked neatly. Any trash or broken equipment was moved to a different area where it wouldn't be in the way. Everett moved to help the engineers put the mech armor on line against the wall.

Mike walked past to the stairwell and started climbing the stairs, holding onto the railing, watching where he placed his feet to avoid a twisted ankle on the angle of the steps. He yelled up the staircase, "Hey guys, find anything up there?" He got a reply back.

"Mike is that you?"

"Yeah, what's up?" he yelled back.

"You need to come up here and take a look at this."

To Mike's thinking, that didn't sound good. He climbed the stairwell, placing his feet carefully. He climbed to the top landing where Rob and Tom were. He didn't see the ceiling of the stairwell though. As he moved up, he turned on his flashlight to look. The lights on the top landing were missing. The top of the stairwell had been replaced with a curved surface that glinted as the light hit it.

"What the hell is that?" he asked.

Rob and Tom were on the top landing of the stairwell, and just above them, there was rock. This rock was as smooth as glass. It looked like poured liquid.

Tom spoke, "As near as I can figure, some kind of rock."

The elevator which led out of the complex was gone. The security station was gone as well, replaced with more of the rock. Most of the main entrance area was gone, though it was possible to get to the elevator shaft that led down to the floors below and the door that led to the first floor. "That's impossible. We've only been down here for three hours. We would have heard some kind of construction or something. It wouldn't be able to dry that fast and hold form," Mike said.

Rob nodded, "And the damn thing is as smooth as a baby's behind. There aren't any imperfections."

Mike shook his head. It was as if somebody had sealed them into the vaults. This didn't make any sense to him, "Even glass is imperfect. I don't know what kind of form or material could have been used to pour this."

Rob and Tom watched him. There was nothing behind the stares. They were just as mystified as he was.

"Well, we can't do anything about it," Mike said. "We have to concentrate on what we can do." He turned to Rob, "Have you guys been able to get into the other levels?" he asked.

Rob nodded, "A few people are banged up and bruised, but nobody's really injured. It could have been worse if the floor tilted further."

Mike looked at the door that led into the first floor. Problem was, the unblemished rock impinged on the door frame. Since the door swung out, it couldn't be opened. "What about this level?" he asked. Rob shook his head.

Mike walked to the security door, leaning over to clear the rock formation. He reversed his flashlight, butt end toward the door, and hammered against the door three times. Nothing happened, so he did it again. He did it three more times, and finally, there was a muffled knocking from the other side of the door, three knocks, then three more, then three more. This repeated several times, and then stopped. Mike banged on the door again. This time, he hammered against the door, five knocks, several times, to let them know that he heard them.

He crawled back, "Well, it looks like we're going to need something up here to get the door open. Do we have any breaching tools on the pallet?" he asked.

Rob replied, "Yeah, we have a few. We didn't know what we would need for this mission, so I brought several different styles of crowbar. I didn't bring anything heavy with us, but I can run back down and get a few crowbars to see if we can pry this open."

Tom spoke, "I wonder if any of them know the knock code."

Mike thought about it. The knock code was used by American POWs in Vietnam to communicate with each other. Anybody that went through survival training in the US military was familiar with it. It was used to communicate through walls by the POWs so that they could pass information. Mike shook his head, "We can't assume that they have that knowledge. We can't assume that they've been to SERE school. We're just going to have to do it the hard way."

They nodded their assent. The three of them talked about how they could get through the door. If they used thermite, it would be pretty easy to burn a hole through the door, but the fumes wouldn't be good to breathe in this enclosed space. They didn't want to use explosives because they had no way to tell people on the other side of the door to move to cover. They would have to do it manually, with crowbars. Then Rob had an idea, "Maybe the fabrication team has a cutting torch."

Tom pointed out the elevator shaft, "You know, it would probably be easier for us to use the elevator shaft to move up and down to this area and the other floors."

Mike and Rob agreed. They walked over to the elevator. They tried pulling the doors apart, but it took all three of them heaving against the door to get it to budge. They were finally able to leverage one of the doors open. They looked into the shaft. The shaft was complete down to the top of the elevator, which was resting against the bottom of the elevator shaft. As they looked up, it was the same as the rest of the landing, the top of the elevator shaft gone, replaced by a smooth glassine rock with no visible flaws. The ladder in the elevator shaft was at a strange angle, but Tom and Rob were able to use it to climb down. They took it slow to make sure that they didn't fall from the ladder.

As soon as they were gone, Mike leaned against the wall and spoke out loud, "Oh God, Jo, where are you?" He was sick with worry. The fear he felt for his wife and child made him ill. His stomach convulsed as he dry-heaved. He didn't know if she was dead or alive. He wasn't a praying man, but at that moment, he prayed to God in heaven that she and the baby were safe.

Mike used the stairs to climb to the second floor below. He knew the general lay out. Security was the floor with the stuck door. Offices for the engineering team were on the second floor. Labs and fabrication tools were on the third floor. The fourth floor held the play room where they trained with the mechanized power armor. Below that, on the fifth floor was storage of materials for fabrication, and storage for other items as well. Mike knew that utilities such as plumbing and electricity were routed through that area.

He walked to the door on the second floor. As he walked, his mind raced. There were only two ways to get into this vault complex. The way that he just checked and the service elevator on the back wall. If that was blocked, they would have to wait for rescue. He was still concerned about what he saw above, though. How the hell could that have happened without anybody here knowing about it?

Rock had to be subjected to a hellish temperature to run like liquid. He wasn't sure that a nuclear bomb would be able to create that kind of temperature a hundred feet below ground. At that temperature, nobody in Area 19 would have survived. There were too many things going on here and not enough information for him to figure out what was happening.

He talked to the people on the second floor, told them the stairwell was blocked to the outside. He told them there was food and beverages below, and that more people were downstairs. "No," he answered their questions, he didn't know what was happening. Unhappy with the lack of answers, they decided to go downstairs to the play room. The group left, and he decided to check the floor one more time. It wasn't that he didn't trust Rob and Tom, but a second pair of eyes might see something that they didn't.

"Is there anybody in here?" he yelled as he walked through the hallway.

"Hey, help me, what happened?"

It was a male voice, sounding disoriented.

Mike started walking toward the voice and yelled back, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, nothing broken, a little banged up is all," The voice sounded relieved that there was another human being that he could talk to. Mike could well imagine what the man was going through.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"My name is Ricky, Ricky Sustein."

Mike yelled again, "Ricky, my name is Mike. I was with the army guys that are working with the team downstairs. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm stuck though, can you help me out?"

Mike yelled back, "Just keep yelling and I'll come to you."

Mike found him pinned in an awkward position by a desk that didn't allow him leverage to push it away. He had been covered by the desk and debris, and just woke up. It was no wonder that he had been missed during the first sweep by Tom and Rob.

Mike helped him out, and then checked him over to ensure that he was okay. Ricky didn't seem to have any problems, so Mike moved him back to the stairwell to go to the fourth floor, telling him that there was food and beverages below. He told Ricky to go directly to Dr. Humphreys and Mickey for a medical checkup. As Ricky walked away, Mike turned and continued through the hallway.

\--------------------------------------

The monster's rage was boundless, her nest gone. It slouched forward, an eldritch, chthonic horror, fetid breath fogging the floor of the cave as it sniffed where her children should be, a deep pit located where the nest had been. The violence of her species and competition from other females had driven it to this cave to protect her eggs. Her efforts had been useless, the miasma of her children's shattered bodies lingering over the broad abyss. Not understanding the destruction of her children, she became fury incarnate, thirsting for violence, vengeance. Thick fangs flexed in broad snout as poisoned saliva dripped in the dirt. Gigantic talons gouged long channels in the floor, punctuating the madness of the monster, her thick, muscular tail lashing the air. A writhing mane of tentacles collaring the neck whipped in frenzy, a feverish, medusa nightmare. Color pulsated pink to red, cascading along the tentacles from root to tip, betraying its murderous intent.

The tongue tested the air over the shaft, the scent of plastic and metal from the elevator shaft unfamiliar, unrecognizable. There was something else, subtle, intangible. It smelled fear, anxiety. It smelled prey. The smell compounded the madness, propelling the monster into the chasm. A coughing growl ripped from its chest, echoing through the cave. Now, the great beast would hunt and whatever was at the bottom of this shaft would die. Ropes of saliva dripped from fangs in anticipation of gore, shattered bone, and the taste of blood.

\--------------------------------------

Everett turned to Mickey, "What the hell was that?"

Mickey shrugged, staring at the far wall, trying to place the sound, stunned by the unexpected scream. The harsh shriek boomed again, coming from the service elevator. Scientists and techs between Everett's position and it looked toward the source in startled apprehension. They stood or lounged on the floor, staring pointedly at the elevator, not understanding the danger. They were locked in their old reality, the one where they could climb into their cars and go to their homes, safe in bed at night.

There was fear on the faces of a few of the techs, but for most, the situation hadn't penetrated, the scientists too civilized for a fight or flight response. They were scientists, formulating hypothesis and theories, trying to understand the phenomena.

Everett yelled to get their attention. "I don't know what the hell that is, but you need to get your asses over here."

A few turned and looked at him. Some ignored him completely. Lieutenant Pang took charge. She didn't know what was happening, but she trusted Everett's instincts. She ran to the engineering team members around the service elevator and started pushing them toward the other side of the room.

She punched the arms of some of the more recalcitrant individuals to get them moving. "Get your fat asses moving, NOW!"

She ran forward and grabbed one of the younger members of the engineering team and shoved him toward the other side of the room, away from the service elevator. Her fervor woke them up. Another scream sounded, intensifying their efforts to get away from the elevator, the speed of their movement increasing. The screams continued, getting louder, sounding closer. The sound sent chills down Lieutenant Pang's spine, provoking deep, specific, primitive fear responses.

She was sweating, the hair standing up on her arms. She didn't know what was in the service elevator, but she knew it was hunting her. Anxiety punched through her chest. She felt like she was moving through sand, her feet feeling as if they weighed a hundred pounds. She felt like throwing up, running, or hiding. These were deep, primal emotions with a power she'd never felt before.

She didn't know what the hell was going on, but she wasn't going to take any chances. That scream didn't sound like anything that she had ever heard. Even a bear's roar didn't sound like that. Living in Montana, she'd heard a few when she went out deer hunting. She was a small girl, but she carried a .500 Smith&Wesson whenever she went hunting, hiking or camping. Her hand moved down to her belt instinctively, feeling for the pistol she wished she had on her hip. She realized what she was doing when her hand closed on the non-existent handle. Then she was running, passing techs and engineers. Her haste transferred energy into the others. Fear drove them, whipping them into a frenzy to get to the other side of the room. A few of the younger and more mobile were helping the older ones, all moving at top speed now.

Everett heard something behind him. He turned. It was Rob and Tom.

"What do you want us to do?" Rob asked, no hesitation.

Everett didn't hesitate, "Guns, we need guns. Break out some big, damn guns. And lots of ammunition. I don't know what the hell it is, but I want it to be in pain if it decides to come our way."

Tom nodded agreement with Everett. Tom was the hunter of the party, scrimping to spend some of his Army staff sergeant pay for a big game hunt in Africa. He spoke, his voice serious, "Ya'll may want to consider hand grenades and the M203 40mm's. I heard a lot of things out hunting, and I ain't never heard anything like that."

Everett was still for a split second, and then slowly nodded his head, "Grab some grenades, frags, concussion, and flash bang. We may need them."

The team ripped into the supplies. Tom started throwing boxes around until he pulled out his SRS .338 Lapua. Rob grabbed his M4/M203 and rummaged for the 5.56mm cartridges only after he found the bandoleers of 40mm for the M203. Everett and Mickey pulled out the Barrett .50 caliber and Mickey started to load it. Everett pulled his SIG 716 and popped in a magazine to get ready for whatever the hell was making that noise. The engineers and scientists were streaming past now, trying to get as far away from the service elevator as possible, as quickly as possible. The sight of the team loading the weapons only hastened them toward the other side of the room.

Lieutenant Pang stopped when she got to the team, "Give me a gun."

Rob didn't flinch. He pulled a Benelli tactical shotgun and tossed it to her, followed by a box of slugs. A few others, John Smith, Luis Garcia, and Hank Bethel, all with prior military experience, ran over. Rob pulled out more weapons and handed them over. Once the techs had the guns, they rummaged to find ammunition before the screaming creature came through the door.

\--------------------------------------

The beast slid into the hole, moving with a sinuous grace belying its bulk, tail slowly moving from side to side, the tip whipping as the tail moved. It could hear movement at the bottom of the shaft. Rage settled as it went into hunting mode, stalking its prey. It was huge, seven tons, but that didn't keep the massive beast from moving down into the square cavity before it. Its body stretched and thinned, elongating to move into the narrow opening.

The hole it dropped into was tricky, canting back below the cave from which it came. It bent its body around gracefully, to fit into the opening. Dense keratinous scales scraped the metal into a burnished shine as the thick hide brushed against the side of the metal walls. The stench from the gore of its broken children was overpowering as it climbed down the shaft, their bodies shattered from the drop, cracked shells and blood surrounding them. The monster's talons punctured and shredded the tortured, shrieking metal of the elevator shaft as it slowed its descent. She found her children dead and dying, too young to live outside the shattered shells. Her fury increased as she nosed their broken bodies. She sniffed the dead corpses of the young and lifted her head in a long howl to mourn the dead.

Claws slid on the unfamiliar metal of the elevator, her bulk deforming it as she stepped around the cut lines, bunched and tangled on the roof. Tongue flicked out, gathering in the unfamiliar scent of technology, oil, plastics and metal. Her body bulked in muscled intensity as she shifted her weight. The elevator was not designed for the stress, screeching in slow collapse. The gigantic, triangular head moved toward the doors of the elevator, inhaling the delicious scent of the prey's fear, marked by the pungent odor of sweat, urine, and feces. It gave a shrill scream, anticipating the kill. Everything in this strange cave would die, ripped, shattered, and broken.

It didn't know what this door was, but the monster could feel and hear the movement of prey behind it. A small opening was present and it could see light emanating from the opening. The tongue flicked and assessed the air on the other side of the crack between the doors. The opening was wide enough that the tip of the tongue could slip through. On the other side, the scent was much stronger. A moaning purr shuddered from the beast's throat in ecstasy at the thought of bloody flesh.

The thin, vertical opening was not large, but the monster could slide the tips of its talons through. It delicately extended the points of the claws through the doors, slowly sliding them in further, curving around the metal, and pulled. The monster's muscular shoulders flexed, leveraging the elevator door open, metal screeching against metal. As the doors opened wider, gigantic paws shifted in, applying more force. The doors slid open and the monster moved its head into the opening. The prey saw the beast and started screaming, anticipating their death.

All delicacy, all subtlety was gone. Roaring its murderous rage, it used its bulk to slam the doors back. The impact rang through the open room and echoed up the shaft. The beast slammed its body against the doors again, the warped, tortured metal shrieking as loud as the monster's howls. The monster pushed its shoulders into the room beyond. The doors broke and gave way, slamming against the floor with the intensity of thunder, and the great monster pushed its body through, roaring its displeasure.

\--------------------------------------

None of Everett's training prepared him for what came next. Everett watched the tongue flick through the crack, libidinously caressing the smooth metal on either side of the opening. He watched the tips of gigantic talons slowly, delicately extend through the doors. The doors of the elevator shuddered open, shrieking as metal ground across metal. Something huge slammed against them, bending and twisting the stainless steel, thunderous roaring accompanying the violent entrance.

Everett looked at the monstrosity coming through the door. It was a nightmare, a chimera of hideous proportions. It was every fear, every monster, every hideous dream that had haunted mankind throughout the ages combined into one. It was a beast dragged from the deepest pit of hell. The sight of it, the triangular head, the whipping tentacles, the gigantic talons, made Everett feel like he had lost his sanity. His basal instincts were screaming at him to drop his rifle, to run, to hide, to pray to God for deliverance.

The same hideous coughing scream echoed through the gigantic room. Despite its bulk, the beast moved sinuously, languidly. The head was huge, broad across the top, great spiked teeth in the mouth. Tentacles on the neck whipped around wildly, rippling through shades of red and pink.

The beast looked reptilian, hide studded with thick scales, mottled green, brown and gray, the camouflage of an ambush predator. It looked like some antediluvian, ancient dragon, but its chest and shoulders were broad and deep, with arms used to drag down prey. The body of the monster was twenty feet long, the tail another fifteen feet beyond that. Saliva streamed in ropes out of the mouth, trailing along the floor as it came through the elevator door. Nothing he'd ever read or ever seen from Hollywood could ever come close to matching the horror he was witnessing. The chaotic delirium of a madman couldn't even match what Everett saw. Long, wide scars ran across the hide, evidence of past battles. Everett couldn't even begin to imagine what other monsters might be out there to fight this gigantic fiend.

The techs and scientists watched as the doors buckled, the talons and head of the beast appearing through the door. As the screaming monster emerged into the room, scientists and techs fought each other to get through the door into the stairwell. The group turned from an orderly, although hasty migration into a scrum of flailing bodies. Complete chaos ensued. They were no longer rational human beings. Fear ran through the crowd like a tidal wave. They turned into a mass of herd animals trying to outrun the wolf. The screaming started as the engineering team realized that they were on the front row to a horror movie. One of them kept yelling, "Jesus, Jesus," over and over again. The stench of voided bowels and urine choked the air.

There was nothing the team could do to make people act like rational humans, so they didn't try. How could they, against the horror they were facing. The sound of weapons racking the first cartridge into the chamber sounded eight times, each sound as different as the weapon system being used. There was only the team, plus Lieutenant Pang and three techs to stop the slaughter that was about to happen.

Everett thought about his impending death and turned to Mickey. Everett looked at him, muscled, as big as a house, the huge .50 caliber rifle looking small against his frame, and said, "Mike's really going to be pissed that he missed this."

Mickey had a huge grin. He thought about Mike missing the impending slaughter. Mickey looked back at him, "Yeah, I think he's going to be a little upset."

They both looked at the beast in front of them. Everett watched as its huge fangs flexed in and out if its mouth. Then he noticed its body massing, muscle contracting, the back legs tensing under the body.

"Get ready, here it comes!" he yelled.

Tom fired the first shot. The .338 Lapua hit the monster on the top of the head. The monster flinched and then paused, seemingly uncertain. It didn't seem harmed so much as stunned that it had been hurt. The momentary silence was overwhelmed by the sound of gun fire as the rest of the team opened up on the creature. The hide was tough, but blood and gore flowed. Rob scored a shot against the beast as he lobbed a 40mm underneath it. Everett and Mickey piled shot after shot into the shoulder and front legs of the beast. They saw the effect the .338 Lapua had on the head and they didn't want to waste shots by putting more rounds there.

The 40mm grenades did damage to the creature, but it was so huge, it took the damage and kept moving forward. Soon, the beast would be too close for the grenades to arm before they hit. Rob was prepping another round for the beast. Tom took aim and hit the beast in the shoulder, causing the arm to collapse under it. It was only down momentarily as it fought off the shot and stood back up to attack them. The beast was taking major damage, but it still soaked up all the hits. There was no doubt that it was going to make it to their platform and kill them all. It raised its head and released an earth-shattering roar.

Mickey and Everett did magazine changes, to the sing song, "reload! Set!" They moved in a ballet of violent intent. Tom kept shooting at the joints on the monster. Rob switched to 5.56mm rounds. Some bullets did damage, most did little, and none of them did enough. Lieutenant Pang just waited until the beast was close enough for the shotgun to have maximum effect, hoping that she could do damage to the monster before it killed her.

\--------------------------------------

At the edge of the corridor, Mike looked into a large cubicle area with desks piled up against the wall. As he looked around, an office door opened, and Mitchem and Randall walked out. Randall was using one arm to hold the other close to her chest. Randall had a problem meeting his eyes. Mitchem was different, more belligerent. He growled at Mike, "What the hell happened?"

Mike tried to be conciliatory, not wanting further conflict, knowing it wouldn't help the situation, "don't know, I'm trying to find out. I was hoping you had an idea."

Mitchem shook his head. Mike looked over at Randall. She was leaning against a desk. He nodded toward her, and pointed at her arm, "What's wrong with you, Ma'am?"

She didn't answer, giving Mike a frosty glare. Mitchem glanced at Randall, and then back at Mike, "I think she has a broken arm."

Mike nodded, "I can get Mickey to take a look at that. He'll be able to tell us what's wrong. Is she in shock? How did she break her arm?"

Randall was pale. He had no doubt that she was in shock. Hell, Mike was still in shock, and his arm wasn't broken. He couldn't imagine how she felt. The silence grew as neither of them responded to him. No one spoke and the silence grew awkward. Mike could see that Mitchem didn't like the question. Mitchem's face started to turn red. Mike couldn't tell if it was embarrassment or fury, though it was probably a combination of the two, one feeding off the other.

Mike didn't know what was going on, didn't care. They were probably knocking boots and didn't want Mike to know. Mike could tell that Mitchem's anger was starting to boil to the surface. Mitchem opened his mouth, about to retort, his standard response, threaten the world around him when embarrassed. Then, Mike heard what distinctly sounded like gunshots. Lots of gunshots.

He forestalled Mitchem's fit by holding up his hand.

"I don't have time for this right now. We'll talk later."

This wound Mitchem up even more, "Who the hell do you think you're talking to Chief?" Fury stood out bright in crimson on his face.

Mike turned and faced LTC Mitchem, "Those are gunshots and I need to find out what's going on. People may be dying; I don't have time for your garbage. Sit down, shut up, help her, and I'll be back for you." Mike turned and ran quickly up the hallway. He entered the stairwell, and took the steps in twos and threes, praying he didn't break an ankle as he did so. Mitchem's vile rant followed him as he ran.

\--------------------------------------

They were busy with slaughter and violence and didn't realize what was happening behind them. Then they felt, more than heard, "Move!" as the speakers yelled out.

Mike was in the power armor moving at full speed, a blur as he passed the team to engage with the giant predator. He could hear the gunfire quiet as he moved in front of them.

After six weeks of training, the armor moved like it was his own body. He was at a small disadvantage because of the angle of the floor, but it wasn't too bad. He moved forward to intercept the horror and to give his team time to inflict some more damage to it.

"Keep firing!" he yelled.

Everett looked at Lieutenant Pang. "Damn, I didn't even think about the mech armor!"

She looked back at him, "Yeah, me either. You heard the man. You don't have anything here that's going to harm him or the armor. Keep shooting at the monster!" She yelled to be heard over the sound of combat and the roar of the beast.

"Grenades?" Mickey asked.

Lieutenant Pang nodded her head, "Yes, anything that does damage, the more the merrier."

"Good," Mickey replied, grabbing four frag grenades. He ran forward to get close enough to deal some damage.

\--------------------------------------

The monster was furious, its body aflame with pain. Anger and hatred drove it forward to kill the enemy. A large, black shape rose to interfere. It roared and jumped forward to meet the new challenger. As it slammed into Mike's mech, he grabbed the tentacles and held on, gauntleted fist driving in, pummeling the monster's face. The ridge over the knuckles of the gauntlet ripped into the face like a blade. Bone crunched, and blood exploded. Infuriated, it screamed as blood filled its eyes. The monster bit, wrapping its arms around the body of the mech. The rage of the monster mounted in frustration as it realized it wasn't inflicting any damage.

Explosions rocked the dragon as they grappled. It felt the shrapnel of the grenades rip into it. Its hind legs launched forward in a move to disembowel. It was weakening as the blows from the gauntlet rained down and the bullets and shrapnel shredded its body.

Mike felt more bone give away. He wrapped the two arms of the mech armor around the monster's neck and tightened. The great monster couldn't breathe and it tired as oxygen no longer fed the brain. Bullets and fragmentation continued to rock its body, the pain overwhelming. The power armor shifted as its rage was spent. Front legs collapsed, and it felt the power armor move to its back. Its throat collapsed, cartilage cracking, jaw askew, blood spitting from the mouth. The monster felt the bullets rip into its body, not able to hear explosions anymore. Death took the rage from it and the body went slack.

\--------------------------------------

Lieutenant Pang emptied shell after shell into the mouth of the beast. Its face was ruined by the mech gauntlet. Random twitches shook the body as death took it. The carcass stilled, no longer moving. Only at that point did the team know that they'd won. Mike didn't let go of the beast for a good, long time, wanting to make sure it was dead. As good measure, he punched the back of the beast's neck until he felt the vertebrae give way and he could see the severed spinal cord.

"Oh damn," Everett said, covering his face with his hand. The stench was horrible. Blood flowed from the carcass of the beast. Bowels opened. Carnage covered the floor, pooling down slope. The mech rose, covered in blood, excrement, lumps of flesh and crushed bone.

As Mike stood up he called to the team, "ACE report."

All team members gave him thumbs up and reported green across the board. The team turned and walked back to the pallet, putting weapons on safe and clearing them. Mike walked back to the where the other mech armor was staged. Debris crunched under foot as he walked the power armor back. He turned around and placed the power armor into the linebacker stance, next to Everett's on the downslope wall. He went through a modified power down and opened up the back hatch of the armor. The stench hit him like a physical blow.

There was blood everywhere, gore and chunks of flesh pooling below the armor. Thankfully, none of it was his or the team's. He stood up in the armor, faced his team and the engineers. More than a few of the engineers and techs were looking at Lieutenant Pang with a hell of a lot more respect. "Can anybody tell me what the hell that thing is?" he asked, in a very loud voice, pointing at the monster.

The silence was absolute.

"Can anybody tell me what the hell is going on around here?" he asked.

More silence.

The team leaned against the pallet boxes and the canted wall. They looked tired. Adrenaline was starting to wear off and the stress of the situation was beginning to tell on everybody.

Bob walked up to the team, "Mike, I can't tell you what's going on, because I just don't know. I think we're going to have to tell you more about the power armor you're using, though."

Lieutenant Pang looked up sharply at him, "Are you sure that's wise?"

Bob looked at her. Then he pointed at the giant carcass of the monster the team had just fought, "Lieutenant, I think they need all the armament we can give them. What if there are more of them where that one came from?"

Lieutenant Pang nodded. Her hands trembled as she put the shotgun on safe and started feeding more shells into the magazine. "You're right. Sorry I said anything."

"What armament are you talking about, Bob?" Mike asked.

"Well, you know the slots on the forearms of your armor, right?" Bob asked.

"Yeah, it kind of looks like the rails we have on our rifles, so we thought something went there."

Bob nodded, "Well, it just so happens that we have high intensity lasers and small rail guns that fit those slots."

A high nasal, unwelcome voice filled the air, "What the hell is going on here? Why is there shooting in this facility? Who the hell authorized you people to shoot in my facility?" All heads swiveled toward the stairwell. It was Jamison. Where he came from Mike didn't know. Maybe the doors to the first floor were finally open. Jamison stormed over to Mike, yelling as he walked. He screamed at anyone he saw, cursing everyone, yelling about the broken equipment and the wreckage piled against one wall. Jamison's eye had developed a tic. His hands were flapping by his side. The guy was seriously unstable. Mike was tired of Jamison's petty posturing. He walked over to Jamison.

"Director, would you please look over there, toward the service elevator."

"What does that have to do with anything? You're in trouble! Don't try to sneak out of this!" Jamison hurled the words at Mike like it was a curse. Spittle leaked from the corners of his mouth.

Mike was done with Jamison's fits. He could feel the anger swelling up in him. He grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, shook him and yelled, "Look at the damn service elevator!"

Jamison was livid, "Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Damn you, you can't speak to me like that! I'll have your commission for this!"

In for a penny, in for a pound. The team surrounded Mike and Jamison. Mike nodded at Mickey, "Mickey, escort the Director over to see our dead pet will you."

Mickey grinned, "Easy or hard?"

Mike looked at the sputtering Jamison. "You can make it hard, but no damage to the director, please."

Mickey reached out with his baseball glove sized hands, grabbed Jamison by the scruff of his neck, and lifted. He started walking and pulling the Director toward the giant lizard. The man screeched and slapped at Mickey's arm, trying to get free. Mickey kept dragging and carrying him, the director's toes barely able to reach the ground. The engineering team goggled as they watched Mickey pick the man up with one hand and carry him over to the beast. They were used to Mickey as the gentle giant, the kind and caring medic, not the knuckle and skull bruiser that Mike knew he could be.

"Take your hands off of me you, you ape," the director yelled at Mickey. It wouldn't do Jamison any good. Mickey was the largest, strongest man that Mike knew. And in the special operations arena, that was saying a lot.

Mike looked into the worried eyes of Everett. He shrugged at the question that he saw there. Mike had put up with the director's idiocy for weeks now. He was past his limit. The director and LTC Mitchem were more interested in protocol and their egos. Mike was a survivor. He had been in some of the worst hell holes on the planet. He would make sure that this group of people had the best chance of survival that he could give them. Protocol was out the window on this one.

He heard a, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus," from Jamison.

"Well, at least we have one bit of good news now," he announced.

The team looked at him. Lieutenant Pang asked the question.

"What good news is that?" she offered.

Mike answered, "We know the way out." He thought for a minute, "Hopefully," he amended.

Everett thought about Mike's statement, "Oh hell."

Mike nodded. He pointed toward the service elevator. "My question is, if we have a predator that big, what the hell is it preying on, and are there more of them up there?"

There were curses as the reality of the situation settled into everyone's minds.

"Uh, I may have a way to find out what is up there," John Smith, the electrical engineer, had been one of the techs that stood toe to toe with the team to kill the monster.

"What's that?" Mike asked.

"Big Dog," was the reply he got.

Mike looked into John's eyes. He had no clue what the man was talking about.

Pang shook her head. "John, Big Dog won't work. We don't know what's up there, and Big Dog can't climb. We need the drone."

John's eyes shined as he thought about it. He nodded in agreement.

Bob thought about the conversation. He looked at Pang, "I think we need to let the team know about the other things we have." Both Pang and Smith looked concerned.

Mike looked at Bob. He pantomimed pulling up his sleeve. Then he mimicked one of his favorite cartoons, "Hey, Rocky, you want to see me pull a rabbit out of my hat?" His voice switched to normal, "How much stuff do you guys have in storage?"

They were interrupted again, this time Mitchem and Randall as they walked out of the stairwell. "What the hell is going on here? Why is your soldier manhandling Director Jamison like that? And what the hell is that?"

All three looked over as Mitchem and Randall walked to where they were standing. His eyes were as big as dinner plates. The realization that something was very wrong with their situation was finally starting to drill into his mind. Still, he wasn't going to let go of the anger or contempt he held for Mike's team.

"What's he doing to the Director?" Mitchem pointed at Mickey, where Jamison was howling and still trying to get out of Mickey's grip.

Mike looked over at the director, "That guy is seriously mental. We're trying to get it through his head that things have changed."

Mike looked at Mitchem, "Look, I understand you don't like me, and don't like my team. Personally, I don't give a crap."

Mitchem stared at him, his eyes like those of a cobra sizing up a rat for food.

Mike continued, "Right now, there are some strange things happening. First, the exit to this building has been sealed by some kind of glassine rock, and I think that the service elevator," he pointed at the elevator with its doors ripped apart, "maybe the only way out of this installation."

He let this sink in, then continued, "Second, we've been attacked by something out of a H.P. Lovecraft novel. It looks like a dragon. I don't believe in dragons, so I'm inclined to believe that something untoward has happened."

He let this sink in. Mitchem and Randall seemed less than convinced.

Mike studied him, "Colonel Mitchem, I need you to get your security team together and help anybody that's caught up in this mess. We'll need to find everyone and treat anybody that's hurt. While your team does that, I'm going to put the engineering team to work adding the weapon mods to the mech armor. My team is going to make sure that this area stays secure. Roger?"

Mitchem nodded slowly as he looked at the director sobbing uncontrollably at Mickey's feet. He got his military bearing back and nodded more steadily. Then his head cocked slightly as he thought of something, "What do you mean that this is the only way in or out?"

Mike's demeanor shifted slightly. "You haven't been to the top floor, have you?"

Mitchem shook his head, "No, I haven't, what's wrong?"

Mike told them, "Everything's gone. There's a curved wall of stone or glass up there where the corridor leading to the other parts of Area 19 used to be."

Shock was on all four faces as he explained this.

Mike turned to Bob, "Bob, get your people working, get the other equipment up. If any of your guys have and know how to operate a cutting torch, the door to the first floor is stuck, and needs to be removed." He pointed at Jamison, "I don't know where he came from, but they may have gotten the doors open."

Mike turned to Pang, "Jennifer, you need to make sure that nobody goes off the deep end about this. Make sure everyone has a job to keep them busy. I don't want anyone thinking too much about our situation."

Jennifer and Bob went off to ensure that their tasks were accomplished, talking to various members of the engineering team, the ones that Mike had previously watched and figured out were the de facto leaders of the techs.

Mike looked at Mitchem, "Do you have any questions?"

Mitchem looked back at him, "This isn't over. You're overstepping your authority, Chief, and I plan on ensuring that you pay for it."

Mike waved a hand at him, "Yeah, yeah, I know, you're going to destroy my career, take my commission. Well, get in line. I think you're standing behind Jamison at this point."

He noticed Randall holding her arm. He turned back and yelled at Mickey.

"Hey, Mick! Can you come over here and take a look at Dr. Randall's arm? It may be broken." Mike directed Randall to the pallet where Mickey and Humphreys had set up shop.

Mickey turned away from the sobbing director, walked to his medic bag, and then smiled at Dr. Randall, a smile that was not returned. He motioned for her to step over to one of the cots to have a seat. He squatted down next to her and probed the arm with his fingers to diagnose what was wrong.

Mitchem grabbed Mike by the arm, "I'm going to get my security team, and we're coming back down here. When I get back, you're going to have some explaining to do."

Mike looked back at him, no give in his face, "Do what you have to do. I'll be in the area. No place else to go."

Mitchem turned from him and walked over to Jamison. He pulled the director up from the floor where he had collapsed in a heap. Jamison wiped his eyes, then tried to regain some dignity by adjusting his clothes. He glared at Mike as he walked by. They exited back through the stairwell.

\--------------------------------------

Chapter Eleven– Now

Mike turned to Everett, Rob, and Tom. They listened to the plan as he explained it to the others. He motioned them forward and started giving them assignments. Tom and Rob went to the platform with their weapons, one eye peeled to the elevator shaft. They kitted up with more weapons and equipment. All weapons were checked and loaded. When Mike arrived at the pallet, he asked Mickey, "What's up with Randall?" She had walked away as the rest of the team walked toward the pallet. Evidently Mitchem had forgotten about her during his snit fit.

"Well, it isn't a break, but she's going to have one hell of a bruise. Might be a hairline fracture, but I can't tell without an x-ray. I wrapped it up and gave her some Motrin to help with the pain and inflammation."

Mike gave marching orders for the team to prep, but they were already doing that anyway. Once the team dispersed, he and Everett started talking.

"What the hell is that thing?" was the first question out of Everett's mouth.

Mike shook his head. "I don't know. As far as I know we just stepped into the real-world Twilight Zone. All I know is that dragon is the biggest, meanest, ugliest thing I have ever seen, and if we want to survive, we need to make sure that we're bigger and meaner than it ever was."

Everett nodded in agreement.

Mike continued, "I need for you to keep an eye out for anything that comes through that elevator shaft."

Everett nodded, "Mike, I don't know what's out there, and I don't know what the hell this thing is, but we're going to have to get all that flesh, entrails and blood out of here. Otherwise we're going to have to deal with whatever scavengers there are out there. The smell alone should start drawing large crowds of nasty things to feed on that giant carcass."

Mike agreed, "Yeah, but first things first. Wounded, Armor, Recon, and then we can cut that carcass up and get it out of here."

Everett asked, "What are you going to do?"

Mike pointed a thumb back over his shoulder. "Make sure what's left of civilization and military discipline doesn't break down before we have a fighting chance to live through this."

Everett whistled, slow and soft. "I think I'd rather face off with the wee beastie again!" he said in a very bad, mock Scottish accent.

Mike laughed, bitterness clinging to the sound, "Yeah, Mitchem's in shock now, but I'm pretty sure that will wear off soon."

Everett nodded, "Good luck with that."

Mickey spoke next, "Boss, as soon as I'm done checking up on everybody, I want to check out the big critter that we snuffed." Mickey's eyes glowed with enthusiasm. Mike couldn't blame him. A new species that nobody had ever seen before would be enough to stimulate anybody's interests. Mickey looked like a big, dumb bruiser, but he wouldn't be on the team if he was. The man was scary smart when it came to medicine and chemical/biological weapons.

Mike clapped a hand on Mickey's shoulder. "Yeah man, as soon as we have everybody secure and scout up the elevator shaft, maybe you can figure out what the hell that thing is."

"Thanks, boss man."

Mike grunted and turned around to go find out what was what. He was more interested in making sure that nobody got eaten or killed.

\--------------------------------------

"Gentlemen, ladies," Mike looked around at the engineering team, "Welcome to the twilight zone. Strange things have happened. My team was almost eaten by a cross between a velociraptor and a stegosaurus. There was a mild earthquake that moved the floor of this facility by about five to ten degrees. A ground movement that's capable of tilting this building that much should have brought this entire damn underground facility down on our heads. And yet, the only major thing that happened, is that the corridor that leads to the rest of Area 19 seems to have disappeared and been replaced by a glassine, possible melted, rock."

Mike stopped to let all this sink in, "Things are crazy around here, but my team and I are going to do everything we can to make sure that everybody gets out of this alive and safe."

He turned to Bob, "Did you say there are lasers and slug throwers for the mech armor?" he asked.

Bob nodded, "Yeah, but we have to go to the storage room."

Mike pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders, "As long as we get them on and loaded before the next evil beast crawls through the door of the elevator shaft."

That thought brought serious looks to the faces of the techs. Luis, one of the electrical engineers, looked a little gray.

The engineering team led the way to storage. They had to maneuver down the stairwell to the bottom floor. They rummaged around until Crandall whistled. The techs walked to his location and started pulling black pelican cases out and brought them to Mike, who took them over to the door. Soon there was a pile of twelve cases. There were ten cases that were the same exact size, and two cases that were slightly smaller. Mike figured that the larger cases were the ones that held the armament for the mech armor. He didn't know what the smaller cases were. Mike moved to the stairwell and grabbed the rope. He tied the first case to the rope and then yelled up, "First case is ready."

More techs were upstairs, and they started pulling the case up. It was problematic to carry the case up the stairs with the crazy angles involved, so this was the best way to get them from the fifth to the fourth floor. Soon enough, all twelve cases had been hoisted up. Mike, Bob, and the rest of the techs followed the cases up the stairwell. By the time Mike and his group of techs arrived, all but three of the cases had been transferred out to the mech armor.

As the people brought the pelican cases, Joel Weitz opened up each one, checked to make sure there was no damage and that all parts were present. Weitz was still a pain in the ass, but after the monster attack, he was cooperating. Once he was satisfied with the components, he passed paired cases over to Crandall and his group, who took each set of the pelican cases and put them next to a suit of mech armor.

John Smith, Luis Garcia and Tracy Sheffield started attaching the weapons to the mech armor and Smith hooked up diagnostic equipment to make sure the software for each weapon was working correctly. Once he received a green across the board, they started working on the next weapon. It took about thirty minutes for each weapon to be installed.

Mike and the team watched as engineers moved from armor to armor. Bob was sitting close, smoking a cigarette.

"Bob, what kind of weapons are those?" Everett asked.

"Those are a pulse laser and one very small rail gun," he answered.

"Why a laser and a.... Wait, what the hell is a rail gun?" Rob asked.

Bob shrugged, "well, with the batteries that the armor uses, it was thought that a miniature rail gun for far targets, and a pulse laser that can cut metal as well as anything else that gets in its way, would be the best armament for the mechs."

"Grenades, chain guns, small arms, missiles?" Mike asked.

Bob shook his head in the negative.

"No, weapons like that need someone on the outside to charge or clear the weapons, because they're mechanical. With these," Bob pointed at the pelican cases, "all you have to do is turn off the electric current to the weapons, and they're on 'safe.'"

"Rail gun?" Rob asked again.

Tom was the one that answered, "Yeah, a rail gun is an electronically fired projectile. The projectile is magnetic, and a pulse of electricity shoots the projectile through electro-magnetically charged rails, hence the name."

Rob stared at Tom, and after a pause, said, "Wow."

Tom looked back, "What, surprised a hillbilly like me knows something about electro-magnetic ballistic projectiles."

Rob shook his head, "No man, you actually used the word 'hence.' I didn't think you hillbillies knew that much English."

Smiles broke out around the pair.

"Well, gallito, it's a new age. We hillbillies don't just make 'shine in the woods anymore."

Rob smiled, "Do you even know what that word means?"

Tom smiled back, "I know it's better than Maricon or Mamoncete."

Rob replied with his middle finger.

While the two men argued back and forth, Mike looked over at Bob, "Bob, what the hell's up with the battery?"

Bob suddenly seemed nervous, "Ah, what do you mean?"

Mike stared at him, "That mech armor uses a hell of a lot of energy. And it's very quiet, like sneaky quiet. So, that means it's all electrical. I don't think you're changing the batteries every night. I looked in the garbage cans, and I don't see a whole lot of AA batteries in there. There are no cables to charge the suits up. With the amount of time that we're spending in the armor, I think it would run out of battery power fairly quick."

Bob looked around before he answered, pitching his voice lower, "Ah, you guys know anything about quantum physics?"

All four guys stared at him.

"You do know about nuclear physics, right?"

Mike was back on solid ground with that question. "Yeah, we know about nuclear physics. Kind of our specialty. We deal with nuclear, biological, chemical, and other nasty stuff. But we don't do esoteric physics. We're more hands on than experimental."

Bob nodded, "Well, you know how much energy a nuclear bomb can produce."

Everett leaned toward Bob, "Are you telling us that these are nuclear batteries?"

Bob held up his hands and shook his head, "No, no, they aren't nuclear. Not at all. That would make any major battle this armor was used in a radiological nightmare to clean up. No, we went a different route."

"And?" Mike asked.

"Well, we, or I should say, three brilliant men, Drs. Degrassey, Dr. Manard, and Dr. Nachman, figured out a way to mine quantum fluctuation for energy."

"You mean, our Dr. Nachman?" Everett asked.

"Well, yeah," Bob answered.

The four team guys stared at Bob. He stared back at them.

Mike continued, "So what you're telling me, is that you created a perpetual motion machine here. With free energy."

Bob shrugged again, "Well, not exactly free. There was a reason you needed the DOE clearances. We couldn't just let any person stumble around inside the mech."

"Is that why this facility still has electricity?" Everett asked.

Mike thought about it, "Yeah, I kind of wondered about that myself."

Bob nodded, "Actually, yes. And not just this facility. We put four of those on an aircraft carrier to replace the nuclear engine. Passed with flying colors. We were going to convert the entire fleet and put them in places like NORAD. That way, our military would have power in case of an attack."

"How far along have you gotten?" Everett asked.

Bob shook his head, "We just completed trials on the aircraft carrier, and we were going to ramp up production for the rest of the country."

"How long do they last?" Mike asked.

"I don't know anything about that. You'd have to ask Dr. Nachman about it. But, if you're around Jamison, Mitchem, or Randall, they probably won't let him answer."

Everett spoke, "That needs to end now."

Mike nodded agreement, "yeah, I don't know what's going on, but when we're finished with the recon, we're all going to have a sit down and a chat about what's going on around here, to include super-secret code word stuff as well."

Bob looked at them both for a few seconds, took a drag on his cigarette, and then replied, "You may have problems convincing some people about that."

Mike nodded, "Yeah, I get that feeling as well."

The three were interrupted by smartass Weitz. He wasn't acting like a smartass now, though. The carnage of the huge monster carcass was probably helping to moderate his responses.

" _That won't last for long,"_ Mike thought to himself.

"Ah, Bob, Chief Duggins, the first armor is armed and ready to go."

"Which armor is it?" Everett asked.

"Armor 4,"

Everett looked over at Tom, "Tom, you're up."

Tom nodded and moved toward the mech armor with his rifle in hand. He wore his kit over his special mech armor uniform. Tom scrambled up the side and stepped into the cockpit. He stored his rifle and then grabbed the helmet and put it on. Lights flickered from the cockpit as he spooled up the electronics. Weitz had his head phones on and started talking Tom through an abbreviated start up sequence. He explained how to use the pulse laser and the mini-rail gun. As he was doing so, Smith and Sheffield loaded what looked like magazines on the upper portion of the arm which held the mini-rail gun.

"How many rounds does that rail gun have?" Mike asked.

Bob, shook his head, "I don't know."

Everett turned and yelled, "Hey, Tracy, how many rounds do those magazines hold?"

She held up two fingers, followed by three clenched fists.

"Good lord, two thousand rounds?"

Three heads turned toward Bob, "well, the slugs that thing fires are smaller. They move at a much higher velocity, causing as much damage as a larger caliber bullet."

"What caliber, and how heavy is it?" Rob asked.

"I don't know the exact specs. A lot of that was handled by the military. You'd probably do better to ask Lieutenant Pang when she gets back. They look like the size of a twenty-two caliber to me. They're square though, not shaped like a bullet."

The techies and the team watched as Weitz scrambled down the mech. Once he was off the mech, he called Tom over the radio, and let him know that the armor was clear for operations.

As the machine stirred to life, the others backed away, knowing that Tom would have to get his balance and get use to the tilt in the floor. The next armor up for weapons was Mike's. Soon enough, Mike was in the cockpit, stowing his rifle and putting on the helmet. He tried to scrape the helmet with his sleeve to get the puke out. He didn't have time to do it when the monster attacked. He couldn't get it all out, so he yelled for a towel. Somebody threw him an old t-shirt, which worked fine. It didn't get the stench out though. He was going to have to do a thorough cleaning when he got the chance.

As he turned on the helmet, he noticed two new displays. He leaned forward, going through systems check as Weitz's voice muttered in his ear. As Weitz went down the check list, he replied in the positive, the board lighting up green until all systems were online. The two red indicators indicating missing systems were now gone, replaced by green. He immediately understood that those indicators were for the weapons. He felt the foam enclose his body and knew that he might actually be going into combat this time.

He broadcast, "Radio check, over."

Tom answered, "Roger, boss man, I have you Lima Charlie."

Mike stood the armor up, and, as with Tom, everyone backed away to let Mike get used to the angle in the floor. "Tom, I need for you to move past the carcass toward the elevator shaft. I'm going to start cutting it up so that we can move it out after the recon. The last thing we need in here is a pile of rotting meat."

"Roger, Chief, I'm moving forward now. Chief?"

Mike replied to the question, "Yeah, what's up?"

"Boss man, can I do some target practice on the soft areas before you chop up the carcass? I don't know what these weapons can do."

Mike thought about it, "Affirmative, get close to make sure you don't miss. We don't want a ricochet. That could really mess up somebody's day."

"Roger, Chief, no problem. I'll ensure that I'm so close I can't miss." Tom clicked on his speakers to announce to the room at large, "Move away from the carcass, I'm going weapons hot, and I need to ensure the weapons are working." Tom walked forward to the corpse.

Mike turned on his speakers, "Everybody move behind Tom's armor so that you're out of the line of fire." The engineers moved quickly to comply with Mike's order. "Everett, you're now my Range Officer. Please ensure everybody is in the safe area behind Tom, then give us the OK to engage the carcass."

It took a few minutes, then Everett gave them permission to engage. As Tom got close to the carcass, a sound like a muted buzz saw started. Mike watched as chunks of flesh flew through the air. The sound stopped, and then Mike saw smoke rising from the carcass. He assumed that Tom had engaged the pulse laser.

"What do you think, Tom?" Mike asked.

Tom spoke, "Not bad. It's like a video game. The cross hairs move to where you point the gun. Once the cross hairs are where you want them, think about pulling the trigger and the weapon shoots. On the mini-rail display, there's a bar that decreases as ammunition is expended."

Tom moved past the carcass and took position next to the elevator shaft, close enough that nothing could get by, but not close enough that he could be surprised by anything coming down.

Mike walked the mech to the carcass. First, he tried the mini-rail. He only used it for a short burst of five, and the metal pellets tore into the flesh of the carcass. He set his mini-rail to safe and turned on the pulse laser. As he watched, he noticed the beam of light was not exactly where the smoke rose as he cut into the carcass.

" _Probably an aiming laser_ ," he thought. He sifted through the command tree for the laser and found what he wanted. He had the capability to use the cross hairs, with the visible laser off, or he could use the aiming laser, in either day time mode or with night vision. There were two more settings for smoke and water vapor.

" _The engineers thought of everything,"_ Mike thought.

Soon enough, Rob's voice asked for a radio check. Both Mike and Tom gave him an affirmative. Mike sent Rob forward to stand with Tom. Now that they had three mechs up and operational, Mike felt better about their chances; at least, as long as there wasn't a pack of beasts like this one at the top of the elevator shaft. With no more attacks, odds were rising in their favor.

As he cut up the beast, the tough hide tried to resist the laser but soon gave way. He thought about where this monstrosity may have come from. Unless the military had some biological experiments in the facility, he didn't have a clue. It was as big as four elephants, but no elephant was as dangerous as this creature. Everybody had been lucky that weapons were nearby, otherwise most of the engineers and his team would have been killed before they got into the stairwell.

He heard Everett calling for a radio check. He received a five by five from Rob, Tom, and Mike.

"Everett, where's Mickey?" Mike asked.

"Still working on sprains and contusions."

Mike turned on his external speakers, "Can someone please get Mickey over here and armored up. I want the entire team for this recon."

The radio clicked in his ear, "Mike, Jennifer here. Mickey is on his way. He has one more arm to wrap and stabilize. Maybe ten minutes."

"Roger, thanks for the update." Mike answered.

Another voice spoke over the radio, "Mike, how would you like to get an idea of what you're going to face before you step into the elevator shaft?"

It was Smith talking. Mike could see him on the heads-up display, or HUD, holding what looked like a three by three-foot square of carbon fiber with four holes. There were small propellers in each hole. There was a shiny ball of glass with electronics in it. Mike could see at least one camera lens.

"Is that the drone?" Mike asked.

"Affirmative, that is the drone. And it links to your head's up display. Your entire team will be able to see whatever it sees," John answered.

"Sounds like a plan to me. Go ahead and send it out. Maybe we can keep from being ambushed out there." Mike answered.

"Okay, powering it up right now."

Mike watched as John and Luis powered up the drone and set up the laptop that controlled it. As soon as the laptop was powered up, Smith sat down and initiated the sequence to get the drone flying. He typed a command, picked up a controller and the drone leaped into the air. It hung there as Smith went through his checklist, using the controller and the keypad of the computer.

"Alright, here we go, the drone is now online."

Smith finished talking, and another display popped up on Mike's screen. Mike accepted the input, and the camera on the drone started relaying images to the team. He watched as the drone moved up into the air, and then sailed over the heads of the standing mechs toward the elevator shaft. This gave Mike a partial out of body experience as he saw the mech armor below the drone and realized that he was looking at himself.

The drone slowed as it approached the shaft. Mike could see the enormous claw marks and dents where the beast had slammed the doors with its body and forced them open. Then, the drone was past the open doors and displayed the area around the deformed elevator.

"What the hell are those?" Mike heard over the radio. It sounded like Weitz talking.

Mike looked at the image. There were leathery objects in the background, some of which were ripped open. There was fluid and gore everywhere.

"Hey, move the camera to the left."

The camera moved and one of the leather shells came into focus. And something more.

"Hey, doesn't that look like a leg?" Rob asked.

Smith spoke up, "Okay, moving forward now."

The drone started forward. More of the leathery shells and bodies came into focus. One had a head that looked like the beast they killed.

Mike knew what they were, "It was defending the nest."

Bob spoke, "What, you mean there was a nest of these things up there?"

Mike replied, "Yes, that's her nest, and for some reason, it was in our elevator shaft."

"What the hell," another voice exclaimed.

Everett spoke next, "Team, be alert. If there was a nest of these critters, odds are very good that there are more of these monsters up there." The voices over the radio quieted as the engineering team realized the implications in that statement. Mickey spoke over the radio as he came online, asking for a radio check. The rest of the team responded. The drone moved into the shaft. The camera showed a large amount of cracked leather shells, and dead versions of the beast that Mike had cut up. It was a horror.

"Well folks, now we know why she was so pissed off. All of her kids are dead." Rob said.

John spoke, "Mike, what do you want to do now?"

"Can you angle the camera so that we can look up the shaft?"

"No problem, but we can't send the drone up any further unless one of you gets into the shaft. The drone radio controls are line of sight, and we have to use the mech armor suits as a relay for the signal. If the drone tried to fly up the shaft right now, we would lose signal and possible damage the drone."

Mike replied, "Roger, I understand." Mike cut the comms with John, "Tom, I need for you to move forward into the shaft. Take it slow and peel out of there if you see anything that doesn't look right."

Tom spoke up, "You mean like a ten ton, pissed off lizard trying to disembowel me?

"Yes, exactly like that, Tom," Mike replied.

"Roger, WILCO."

Tom moved forward, toward the shaft. The view from the drone changed as it moved further up the shaft. Tom grabbed the elevator door and the sound of metal creaking filled the warehouse as the armored hand crushed it. Tom shifted the metal back and forth until it gave way and ripped from the frame of the shaft. He dropped it next to the elevator.

Tom moved slowly into the shaft. Mike watched him gingerly step onto the top of the elevator. The metal settled with a crunching noise as it adjusted to the weight of the armor. The car stabilized, and he stood there for a moment. They all heard bones snap as he stepped on the bodies of the dead monsters. Cables lay haphazardly in great knots and snarls on top of the elevator.

"Alright, good signal, moving the drone further up the shaft," Smith said.

The drone moved up and sideways to compensate for the angle. Gore was smeared across the walls where the eggs had hit on their way to the bottom. The monster's talons had ripped into the sides of the elevator shaft as she climbed down.

Rob talked, "personally, if these beasts had the same type of temper that their mother did, I'm glad they're dead."

"Ah, might not have been the mother," Tom replied.

"What do you mean?" Everett asked.

"Could be the father. It all depends on the species involved."

The drone kept climbing. It approached the top of the shaft. The top looked strange. The concrete walls of the top of the elevator shaft were gone, and the huge blast door at the top was gone as well. They had been replaced by the same smooth rock layer that they had seen in the other elevator and the top of the stairs.

"What the hell is that?"

"What?"

"That curved surface. That shouldn't be there. That's where the cables for the elevator should be attached."

"If you go to the top of the staircase to the first floor, next to security, you'll see the exact same thing. It's unnaturally smooth." Mike replied. He didn't know who he was talking to.

There was a hole in the rock. As the drone approached, they could see that it was sizable. They wouldn't know how big until they got there, though.

"John, can you fly the drone through that hole?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, but you'll have to move the mechs forward again, for the relay," he replied.

Mike gave the orders to move, "Tom, I need you to climb up the shaft, so that Rob can take your place on the elevator."

"Roger, moving up," Tom replied.

Tom started climbing the iron scaffolding that encased the elevator. He used his laser to cut hand and foot holds as needed. It was a good thing they had weeks to get used to the mech armor. It acted like it was part of Tom's physical body. He only felt faint vibrations through the foam encasing him as he moved. The neural feedback loop in his helmet gave him a capability he never could have imagined when he first saw the mech armor.

Once Tom vacated the elevator car, Rob, moving just as gingerly as Tom had, stood on the top of the car. He watched Tom's progress from his armor graphic displays, and from the drone. Soon, Tom was at the top of the shaft, "Boss man, I'm at the top of the shaft."

"Roger, can you find a stable position inside the tunnel?" Mike asked.

"Well, it will be a tight fit, but I should be able to manage."

"Okay, Tom, I need for you to move up once the drone enters the tunnel and try to stabilize your position."

"Roger."

That was Tom. He would never use two words when one will do.

Smith moved the drone forward. The tunnel was a mixture of gravel, rock and dirt, just like any other cave in the world with the exception that it was very smooth. Mike could tell the monster had traversed the passage constantly, hide polishing the rock face.

The drone continued forward, moving twenty, thirty, forty feet down the tunnel. Then there was a turn in the tunnel, and Mike knew he would have to shift bodies to keep the drone working.

"Okay, Tom, move forward, try to keep from getting stuck," Mike ordered.

"Roger, moving forward."

"Rob, you need to move forward and take Tom's place, okay?"

"Roger, can do."

"We'll have to play tag. Tom, don't move until Rob replaces you, then you can move forward."

Mike stepped forward to maintain the signal line of sight as Rob started climbing. Soon, Rob was at the top, and Tom started moving forward. When Tom reached the turn, the drone started moving forward again. The tunnel widened as the drone advanced. The roof was also getting higher. Ambient light filtered back, and the tunnel suddenly opened up to an area approximately thirty to forty feet wide, and in some places, about thirty feet high.

The opening of the cave was the widest part of the cave, making a triangle with the opening of the cave one side, and two meandering cave walls as the others. The opening of the tunnel intersected the point where the two walls would have met. As the drone moved forward, the cave opened up, and the drone showed a large, open expanse of tall grass, waving as the wind blew through it. A wall of tall trees stood in the distance. There was no military base. There were no buildings. Just a meadow and trees.

Everett whistled, the whistle a long, low sound, and then he stopped, speaking, "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas, anymore."

\--------------------------------------

Chapter Twelve – Now

"Where did it all go?" Mike thought to himself. There was no building, no loading dock, no offices, nothing. The compound was gone, the fence around it gone, the parking lot, gone. There had been a rural road with traffic on it. It was all gone. It was a punch to the gut.

His thoughts were mirrored by the clamor over the radio, with multiple people talking. He could hear John and Jennifer, and a crowd of others. The rest of the crowd was talking over John. Mike couldn't hear what he was saying. The crowd was stunned, trying to make sense of what they were seeing.

Everett spoke, "Excuse me, can you please hold it down."

Everett's voice conveyed the inner Master Sergeant. It was a command, not a request. The team listened as Jennifer shouted everybody down.

"Everybody, quiet! We can talk about this once we're sure that the team is safe. Right now, they have a job to do, and they can't do it if we keep talking over them!"

The noise quieted down. Mike thought about switching to another radio channel, but he wanted everyone aware of what was happening up top, just in case they had to defend themselves. The mech armor was powerful, but who knew how many of those beasts were out there.

Right now, Tom was exposed. He was the only one that could be attacked. There was no room in the tunnel for Rob to squeeze up next to him. Only when they were all in the wider cave opening would they be able to support each other with cover fire. It was not a position that Mike liked.

"Smith, can you move the lens around so that we can see what's out there?"

John spoke up, "Yeah, I can do that. Wait just a second."

The camera started forward toward the cave mouth. The drone flew past the mouth, out of the cave. Then it stopped in one place, and the camera slowly panned around the meadow. The drone was about one hundred feet in front of the cave. There was nothing but the open meadow, maybe a thousand feet long by a thousand feet wide, irregularly shaped. The cave entrance cut into the meadow like a jagged wound.

The trees looked familiar, like pine trees, but they were oddly different, something about the color of the vegetation. There were other trees around that looked like tropical banyan trees, and there were vines throughout the vegetation. A low mist encased the meadow. It definitely didn't look like Montana. The sky beyond the trees was a darker, gun metal gray.

Mike had an ugly feeling about that sky, "John, could you please pan the camera up?"

"Certainly, Mike." The camera panned, and Mike could see irregularities in the skyline, peaks of high mountains. These were incredibly high mountains, much higher than the Rockies. If Mike didn't know better, he would think he was in India, close to the Himalayas.

"What in God's name is going on?" Mickey asked, breathless.

"I don't know, Mickey, but we're going to find out." Mike said.

"John, go ahead and bring your drone back toward the cave, and land it above, so that we don't step on it as we go outside the cave entrance."

Smith spoke up, "Okay, I can do that, but you wouldn't step on the drone. It has sensors and doesn't allow anything to get near it."

Mike thought for a second, "Okay, do what you think is best, but I'm taking the entire team up, and you may lose signal."

John replied, "Okay, then your plan sounds like the way to go. I'll bring it back and park it above you."

Mike spoke to his team, "Everett, Mickey, move up behind me. Tom, stay put until Rob gets up with you. Rob, move forward and once you get to Tom, give him the okay to move forward. Tom, I want you and Rob to move as a team into the cave entrance. The rest of us will meet you there. Reply in sequence."

The team gave confirmation that they understood the orders, from Everett, the highest ranking, down to Tom, the lowest. This gave the team an opportunity to ask questions if needed. It also gave everybody one more comms check before they moved forward.

"Good, execute."

Mike knew that Rob was moving forward to Tom's position and knew that Everett and Mickey were moving forward to his. Mike started climbing up the elevator shaft, slipping occasionally in the gore of the broken eggs.

As he climbed up, he heard Rob tell Tom that he was in position. Then he hailed Mike on the radio. "Chief, I'm at Tom's position. We're moving forward to the mouth of the cave."

"Roger, maintain position in the cave mouth until the entire team is there. If you see anything hostile, don't ask for permission, go ahead and engage. Do you copy?"

"Roger, Wilco." That same phrase came from Rob and Tom, in sequence.

Mike crawled into the tunnel, and started moving forward on all fours, the only way the large mech armor could fit through the tunnel. It was tight, and his mech armor kept rubbing and bouncing off the walls. His audio picked up sounds from behind as Everett and Mickey climbed up the shaft and entered the tunnel behind him.

He had a small problem navigating the turn in the tunnel, but once through, he began to see ambient light as he crawled to the tunnel entrance. He crawled out and was able to stand up. His sensors noted the size and outline of the cave, and where Rob and Tom were in relation to Mike's mech armor.

Mike walked forward so that he didn't block the tunnel. Tom was stationed at the right of the mouth of the cave, and Rob was stationed at the left. Mike walked forward to stand behind Tom on the right side of the cave entrance; standing to Tom's left so that he could use his weapons if needed. Everett's icon popped up on the display. Everett took a second to look things over, then moved to the left, behind and to the right of Rob. Mickey's icon showed up, and he moved forward between Mike and Everett.

"Team, status report?" Mike asked.

All four reported green across the board.

"Okay, this is what we're going to do, gentlemen. Tom, I want you to move out of the cave then do a one-sixty degree turn to your right, move to that sector and clear any hostiles. Rob, I want you to do the same thing to your left. Everett, you'll go out on an approximate 80-degree angle to your left. Mickey, I want you to walk straight out and clear hostiles. I'll be going out on an 80-degree angle to the right. The goal is a five-pointed star, 100 feet out, with the cave mouth in the center of the star. Engage any hostiles, do not wait for permission. Are there any questions? Sound off in sequence."

Everyone replied to confirm their orders.

"All right gentlemen, execute, execute, execute!"

\--------------------------------------

All five moved smoothly along the uneven ground. The time learning the mech armor and the onboard A.I. ghost learning their neural responses paid off. There was no stumbling. They were all in position in a few seconds. They were all ready for trouble.

"Security halt." Mike called over the radio.

A security halt meant that they all stopped moving, and then looked, listened for any hostiles that might be in the area.

There was nothing in the meadow that could be considered hostile. They stood at five points that gave them interlocking fields of fire over the entire meadow. If anything was going to attack them, it should come at them pretty quickly.

"Maintain security. Look for anything moving. Let me know if you see anything in your field of fire," Mike ordered. The team replied back with a chorus of, "Roger," "Affirmative," and, "Roger, Wilco."

They waited, and except for the vegetation swaying in the breeze, nothing happened, nothing attacked, and nothing was moving. Small animals scurried through the trees and the grass. When that occurred, the HUD would outline the animal in an orange circle, the targeting computer would display options to engage, and Mike would look at the display to identify the animal as threat or no threat. Everything displayed so far was marked as no threat.

Eventually, the A.I. stopped highlighting the animals for friend or foe identification. The software was designed to interface with Mike and learn as it did so. The software development team and the bio-mechanical team had done wonders with the armor. Mike could feel the mech working in harmony with him. One day, he supposed he would feel completely natural in the armor, like it was a second skin. Even now, processes that had taken concentration when he started were done without him consciously thinking about it.

They stood there for twenty minutes by Mike's clock. He decided that there wasn't going to be any attack. "Maybe we need some bait," Everett spoke. Mike started, used to the quiet. He had been concentrating on his HUD, surprised by Everett's voice.

"You could be right, Everett. Mickey, Rob, Tom, maintain surveillance. I'm going to keep the ear bud in. If anything happens, let me know. Everett and I'll judge whether we have time to get back into the armor, or if we have to retreat back into the tunnel," Mike asked Everett, "Mind joining me close to the mouth of the cave, Everett."

"Nope, feeling crowded in here anyway. Meet you in a few."

Mike positioned the mech armor in the linebacker position and put the electronics in standby mode so that he didn't have to power it back up from scratch. The semi rigid foam started deflating as soon as the electrical current was cut. Mike opened the back hatch and stood up, looking around the meadow. His helmet had a truncated HUD, fed by the electronics in the mech armor. There was no hostile movement.

He pulled off the helmet and set it down. He grabbed his AR-10 and slung it over his back so that he wouldn't drop it with his hands busy. He climbed down the side of the armor and jumped off onto the ground. Mike looked over at Everett, who was in the process of doing the same thing. Once he was on the ground, he turned and walked to meet Mike. Both of them rotated their rifles from their back to their chest, hands on the weapon in the ready position. They met close to the middle in between the five mechs, right in front of the cave.

"What do you think?" Mike asked, his ear bud set to hear, not transmit, so that he could hear a warning from the rest of the team, but so he and Everett could talk in private.

"I think we're well and truly screwed," Everett replied, "Where the hell is everything. We were here not five hours ago when we came to work, and now everything's gone. The parking lot should be here, and the building right behind us. It's like reality has completely warped."

Mike nodded, "Yeah, I agree. I don't know where the hell we are, at all. One minute, I'm doing gymnastics in the mech armor; next minute, I'm skidding across the floor." Mike stopped, and spit onto the ground, "Not even the big brains downstairs understand what the hell happened. And that scares me."

"Yeah, I mean, I'm not a stupid man, or at least, I hope I'm not one, but this is beyond anything I've ever experienced. What are we going to do? What do you want us to do?" Everett asked.

Mike shook his head, mystified, "Well, we've been trained to survive anything that the bad guys throw at us. We've been trained to live off the land." Mike looked around as he talked, "So that's what we're going to do. We're going to ensure that we survive until we can figure out what's happening."

Everett was looking around, also. He was facing Mike, and Mike faced him. This way, they had a 360-degree field of vision around them. This was natural caution, instinctual, developed from years of conflict. They didn't even realize they were doing it.

"What about Mitchem, Jamison?" Everett asked.

Mike took a deep breath. "Well, I'm just about fed up with both of them. They've been arrogant assholes the entire time we've been here."

"What about that display with Jamison. What the hell is up with that guy? I don't think he's entirely stable."

Mike nodded, "Yeah, I don't know if he's autistic, psychotic, bipolar, but he has a screw loose somewhere."

"And Mitchem?"

Everett looked at Mike intently. Mike knew that all he had to do was give the word, and Mitchem wouldn't be a problem anymore.

"Well, he's an asshole, but he hasn't done anything to compromise our safety. So, we'll let him continue to be the asshole that he is. With his personality, he shouldn't be able to get too much support behind him."

Everett's features softened. "Yeah, Pang and the rest of the engineering team think he's an asshole. Except for Weitz. Weitz kisses his butt whenever possible."

Mike agreed, "The guy is a good tech and programmer, but I don't think he can breathe when Mitchem tightens his sphincter. I don't trust him."

Everett nodded.

Mike continued, "I think we may have problems with a few of them. There's Jamison, Mitchem, Weitz, Dr. Randall, and Lieutenant Jondreau. Right now, I don't think we can rely on them to do the right thing. They're still wrapped up in their political, posturing bullshit."

Everett contemplated the names for a minute. "Well, Randall is arrogant, and Jondreau is immature, but I think that Randall will sail wherever the wind blows to save her skin. Jondreau might just need a good role model. He's a young officer, still learning. He might surprise you when the rubber meets the road."

Mike thought over Everett's assessments, "Yeah, you're right about Dr. Randall. She'll tag on wherever she perceives an advantage. Jondreau though, he's a boy scout. He'll try to do the right thing, but the problem is he doesn't have enough experience in the world to understand what the right thing is. And that might get one of us killed."

Everett shrugged, "Could be, but I'm not saying we should trust him, I just think we may be able to bring him over to the dark side, eventually."

Mike cocked his head and grinned at Everett, "Well, Master Sergeant, you've been dealing with people like these a lot longer than I have. I'll trust your judgment on that one. Just don't give him too much leeway."

"Roger, Chief, no problem. Team first." Everett replied.

Mike spit again. "We may have to redefine the team. I think that we can rely on Lieutenant Pang, and most of the engineers, minus Weitz, Randall, maybe a few others. Once we get a head count, and see who's with us, then we can start figuring out who's reliable. Lieutenant Pang probably knows everybody in this facility, so she can give us an idea of who to trust, and more importantly, who not to trust."

Everett wasn't sure about accepting her evaluation completely, "Probably, but we have to accept that the situation is going to affect people differently. Some people can't handle the strain when circumstances test them."

"This is true, people handle stress differently. But if we can give them some stability, and possibly reinforce the idea that nobody's going to die immediately, they might be able to accept the situation."

"Yeah, but we have to make it through the day first. We need to finish cleaning up the mess downstairs and stay alert for more of the big lizards and any other predator that might show up."

"Okay, so I say we get Mickey out of the mech and back down to the play room. We need a work detail to get the carcass out of the facility and up here to the meadow. The last thing I want is to leave a rotting carcass down there. God knows what kind of diseases that would cause." Mike looked up into the sky, around the meadow, and back to Everett, "I need for you, Rob and Tom to keep security tight up here. Let us know if anything comes this way that we have to worry about, and then Mickey and I'll start the process of getting the carcass up here. We'll try to arrange a work party and get everybody into teams to move the damn thing. That should get their mind off things for a little while. Plus, the more people that see this meadow, and realize our situation has changed, the less problems we should have."

"Okay Mike. I'll relieve Mickey," Everett replied. He snapped his fingers, and as an afterthought, added, "Oh, and send Smith up here so that we can get the reconnaissance drone back up in the air. I think it would be helpful if we can see the entire area. If he can put it high in the air, it could possibly give us more range, better line of sight, and it might work as an early warning system, at least against anything as big as that monster downstairs."

"Okay, I'll send him your way. I think they're still hiding some things from us. We need to make sure that we know everything about the capabilities of this mech armor."

Everett agreed, "Yeah, I'll try to worm more information from Smith as the day goes by. If they don't tell us what we need to know, we may have to find the weak one in the herd and apply a little pressure."

Mike nodded, "yes, but I think if we can get Jennifer and Bob, and maybe the PhD Squad, the three amigos, away from everybody, we might get some answers."

With Everett and Mike's plan coalescing, Everett walked back to the armor. Mike watched him climb up the back and then punch in the code to open up the hatch. While he was doing this, Mike pressed a switch on his ear bud and commed Mickey.

"Mickey, as soon as you get confirmation from Everett that he's armored up, I need you to hop out of the mech armor and come with me."

"Roger Mike. What about my med bag? Do I need it?"

Mike didn't hesitate as he answered, "Yeah, go ahead and bring it with you when you get out. We probably need to get everybody in one place and do one more med screen, just to make sure that everyone's okay."

"Okay, roger that. On my way."

Everett's mech stood back up at attention, and Mike knew he was on the job. Mickey's armor assumed the linebacker stance. Mickey popped the hatch and climbed down as the hatch closed behind him. He walked over to Mike.

"Well, what do you think boss?" Mickey asked, "Where the hell are we?"

Mike turned as Mickey caught up with him and they walked back to the cave mouth.

"No clue. Neither Everett or I have any idea what happened, or where the hell we are. I don't even know if we're still on earth. This sure isn't the place we started out this morning."

Mickey nodded as he walked, "Yeah, everything's gone. There aren't any signs of civilization here. I did a radio spectrum scan in the mech armor while you guys were talking. There's nothing on the frequencies except for static. Hell, if nothing else, you should be able to hear some Morse code HF noise. I thought those guys would be on radio until the end of the world."

Mike was surprised, "You can do a radio spectrum scan with those things?"

Mickey looked sheepish, "Yeah, well, Tracy's taken a liking to me. She talks about some of the other things that the mech armor is capable of."

Mike looked at Mickey and said, seriously, "Mickey, I need for you to treat Tracy as a source right now, no matter what else you two have been up to. I need to know everything the mechs' are capable of doing. It might be a matter of life or death."

Mickey's sheepish look disappeared and he got serious, "Sure boss, I'll find out everything I can."

Mike was satisfied with the answer, "Okay, we need to go downstairs, and arrange teams so that we can get the damn carcass downstairs out of the facility."

Mike and Mickey kept talking about what the hell was happening as they walked through the cave back into the tunnel. Out of the mech armor, the tunnel was easy for them to navigate. They got to the shaft, then used the service ladder to climb down to the fourth floor. This ladder, at an angle that you could lean into, was much easier to use than the one in the other elevator shaft. Mickey went down the ladder first, and Mike joined him on the top of the elevator soon after.

When they walked into the play room, there were many more people gathered round the monster's carcass. It looked like everybody, minus security, Jamison and Mitchem. Mike saw Langford, and some of the other civilians from topside. Evidently, they had moved into the secure area when the alarms sounded. He didn't see Captain Dickerson, though, which was a shame. Dickerson was a steady customer and balanced out the idiocy of Jamison and Mitchem with commonsense. Dickerson was a reliable man, and Mike could have used him here.

The crowd saw Mike and Mickey, and then the questions started flying. Mike held up his hands and quieted the crowd down. Pang, Bob, Joel, and Ed were in the forefront. As Mike motioned, the crowd slowly grew quiet, although he could still see the apprehension on everyone's faces.

"Alright, alright, everyone calm down. I'll answer your questions if I can, but first, let me tell you, we don't know what the hell is going on. If you were watching the surveillance drone, you can see that everything is gone."

The crowd didn't like that. Someone yelled from the back, "What do you mean, everything is gone?"

Mike shrugged, "I mean, there's no blast door at the top of the elevator shaft, there's no large warehouse with offices, no cars, no parking lot, no chain link fence, no guards, no road. Oh, and that big mountain that was east of us, well that's gone. It's been replaced by mountains that are taller than the Rockies."

He let that sink in for a moment and then continued, "Mickey did a radio spectrum survey, and there's no radio signal, no TV signal, no CB radios, no HF Morse code signals, nothing that indicates that there's ever been civilization up there."

"Jesus Christ," somebody yelled. The crowd erupted in loud voices. Even Lieutenant Pang looked upset, and she never looked concerned about anything. She was a tough cookie for someone that weighed about ninety-five pounds soaking wet.

"Hey, everybody, calm down, calm down!" Mike yelled, his arms up, commanding attention.

"We have some good news!" Mike yelled, trying to quiet everybody.

This statement calmed the crowd somewhat. Mike continued, "We haven't found any more of those monsters up there. There's nothing out there bigger than a squirrel that we can see, but," and with this, Mike motioned to Smith, "I need you to go up there, and set up the drone so that we can see a bigger area than just the meadow. With the drone up, we should be able to see anything like that," he pointed at the carcass, "coming from a mile away, if not further."

John nodded his head, gave a thumb's up, and ran over to grab the laptop and controller. He shoved them into the case. He started walking fast toward the elevator shaft, and, as he was passing, grabbed Weitz by the arm, pulling slightly to get him moving up the elevator with him.

Weitz shook Smith off and pulled back, "No way, no way. I'm not going up that elevator shaft. Something up there could kill me." Smith looked at him with disdain and kept walking to the elevator.

Dr. Ed spoke, "And if you don't go up there, some more of those creatures can come here, and kill us all."

Mike told Weitz, "don't worry, I have Everett, Tom, and Rob up there in the mech armor to guard the cave entrance. Nothing can get by them. If you don't go with John, I'm going to have to put you on a team to help drag this carcass out of here."

Weitz looked at the carcass and turned green. Blood, bile, feces, ropes of meat, and shards of bone changed his mind. The last thing he wanted to do was touch that bloody carcass. "Uh, okay, I'll go."

He caught up with Smith, and both of them walked to the elevator shaft. Mickey helped them into the shaft and showed them how to climb to the top.

One of the airmen spoke up, a young girl, tall, thin, brunette. "Why do we have to get this thing out?" She looked green, unhappy with the prospect of cleaning up the carcass.

Mike turned and told the crowd, "I know you don't like the idea, but we have to get this carcass out of here, otherwise, wild animals will follow the smell, and then we have to contend with other dangerous creatures coming down that elevator shaft. Plus, in a few days, this thing will bloat up and rot, and that will draw insects and other nasty creatures. The smell alone will be horrible."

Mickey spoke, "and that could create conditions that lead to infectious diseases. We don't want that, do we?"

"There's blood everywhere, what about that?" one of the civilians asked.

"Yeah, I know, just make sure you don't get any in your mouth or eyes. Don't touch your face, and hopefully nothing will be infectious."

Dr. Humphreys spoke, "Look, this creature is not of our world, wherever we may be. Wherever it came from, the odds that it has some kind of disease or parasite that we can catch are pretty low. But, if you're really concerned, up in the lab, I have denatured alcohol."

The crowd looked blankly at him. He chuckled, "sorry, rubbing alcohol, used for the medical instruments. I'll bring that. We can get the mops and mop buckets from the custodian closet to clean up when we're done. Just do what Sergeant First Class D'Inazio, and Chief Warrant Officer Duggins asks, and don't rub your eyes, face, or get any in your mouth. We'll be okay, I promise."

It was a nice touch for Dr. Humphreys to throw in their rank, Mike thought. It subtly reminded everybody that they outranked the Airmen, and reinforced Mike's and Mickey's authority.

Still, there was grumbling and groaning. Pang caught Mike's eye, nodded slightly, and she started separating the crowd into two teams, one to lug the carcass to the elevator shaft, and one to go topside to pull the bloody parts to the surface. The one going to the surface was comprised of mostly younger, stronger men. The older men, and the women, stayed on the bottom to drag the chunks of carcass over to the elevator, and attach them to a rope to be pulled up.

Bob walked over and looked up the elevator shaft. He walked back to Mike. As he walked, he motioned Pang and Tracy Sheffield over.

"Mike, I think we need some rope, some nets, and a block and tackle to get this thing out of here."

"Do you have anything like that?" Mike asked.

Bob looked at Tracy and Pang. Pang nodded. Bob looked back at Mike, "I think we can find something if you give us an hour or so, then we can clear this out."

Mike looked back at Pang. "Okay, you're in charge here. Get everybody started and let me know when everything's in place."

Mike waved at Mickey, and then motioned for Humphreys to come over. "Joel, I'm going to leave Mickey down here, for two reasons. First, if anybody needs a medic, I'll have two of you here to help with injuries," then he looked at Lieutenant Pang, "and if you need some muscle, Mickey is the man to knock heads for you."

Mickey grinned. He couldn't help it. He was a natural brawler.

Tracy, Pang, Joel, and Bob's faces blanched slightly when Mickey grinned. Mickey's smile could do that sometimes. While he was a good-natured man, he struck fear in the hearts of his enemies, and sometimes his friends when they saw the amount of destruction he could wreak on the human body. Mickey was truly a beast, though strangely, shy around women. Mike caught Tracy Sheffield eyeing Mickey with open admiration. Then she saw Mike looking at her, and she started blushing. Mike smiled at her, which she returned shyly.

" _That would be a good girl for Mickey,"_ Mike thought.

"So, you have this, yes?" Mike asked the group. A chorus came to him, indicating that, yes, they had it. He thanked them all, then turned and walked back to the elevator shaft. He stepped inside, grabbed the ladder and started the climb back up to the cave. He reached the top and followed the tunnel back down to the cave entrance. Everett, Tom, and Rob were out front, and nothing had changed except for Smith and Weitz standing there with the laptop, looking at the screen.

Mike walked over to them. Smith and Weitz heard him and turned around to look. Smith started to talk, but Mike held up one hand, "Wait one minute, please."

He tapped his ear bud. "Everett, I'm back up. SITREP?"

"Everything's normal, nothing moving around up here."

"Thanks, out."

With that, Mike turned his attention back to Smith and Weitz. "Gentlemen, what can you tell me?" Smith and Weitz looked at each other. They looked back at Mike. Smith was as solid as a rock. Weitz looked shaken. Smith started talking, "I can tell you that there is no trace of the world we came from. The drone is hovering at five thousand feet AGL right now, and I can't even see Great Falls."

"AGL," Mike asked, "What's the height we're at right now?" Mike knew AGL meant above ground level, something every paratrooper knew about.

John continued, "Well, according to sensors on the drone, we seem to be about four thousand feet above sea level."

Mike thought about this. "Isn't that a little bit high for this area?"

"It would be if we were still in Montana, but I'm pretty sure that's not the case. Take a look at this," John motioned him over to the laptop.

Mike looked, and what he saw didn't encourage him. The meadow, which was outlined with an orange overlay, was in an irregular bowl of a valley, surrounded by high mountains on all sides, with a river that flowed through the middle and emptied out of the valley through a low pass to the northwest.

Mike looked up and around. The meadow had clouds above it, and there were low lying mists further down the valley. He looked at Smith, "How can you see the valley with all of this cloud cover?"

"The drone has regular, night, thermal, and radar to penetrate cloud cover," Smith explained.

Mike shook his head, "That's amazing. You guys know how to build tech. When I think you're done, you surprise me with something else. But, we have a problem."

Smith and Weitz look confused, "What do you mean, Mike?"

Mike pointed at the mech armor, "The batteries are quantum batteries. You had rail guns and pulse lasers, so, the question is, what the hell else are you guys not telling me?"

Smith and Weitz looked uncomfortable.

Mike stared at them. This made them even more uncomfortable.

"Well?" he asked.

Smith spoke while Weitz looked down at the ground, "Mike, we'd like to tell you, but we can't. We signed non-disclosure agreements. Mitchem would have our asses if we told you everything. Hell, it's bad enough we told you about the pulse lasers and rail guns."

Mike barked laughter at the thought of the non-disclosure agreements, "I can't believe you guys give a crap about anything Mitchem says anymore. Hell, I'll be happy if we live through the night to see another day, and you're worried about non-disclosure agreements? Are you kidding me?"

Mike pointed out to the tree line. "Is there anything out there that gives you the indication that the damn non-disclosure agreement means anything, anymore?"

His voice increased in intensity as he talked, "What makes you think, that we're going to be alive this time tomorrow, let alone next week? Do you really think that any of that crap matters anymore?"

Smith sat down the computer, his hands raised in supplication, his face pleading, "Please Mike, we just can't do it, he'll have our ass."

Mike walked up to Smith, his face very serious, and in a quiet level voice, one that almost made Weitz pee in his khaki pants, said, "And what makes you think that I won't?"

Smith and Weitz suddenly realized that they were in a meadow with four men who's second nature and training was that of killing other men, and those men were the only ones with guns. Three of those men were in the most powerful infantry weapons that the United States had ever created. All Mike had to do was turn on his ear bud, tell the team to paint the two engineers as targets, and Smith and Weitz would be history.

It was Weitz, uncharacteristically, who spoke next. The recognition that he was in a very delicate position, and the fact that he was seriously worried by the expression on Mike's face, probably had a lot to do with him being forthcoming, "What do you want to know about the mech armor?"

Mike's earlier expression disappeared like pecan pie at a church social. It was as if the sun had broken through the clouds. With a smile on his face, he continued, "Well, boys, are there any other capabilities that this armor has that we aren't aware of? If there are, can you please unlock them so that my team can access them if any of those big monsters show up again?" Smith and Weitz recognized that the second sentence, while politely spoken, was a command, not a request. They were beaten. Smith started talking again, for both Weitz and himself.

"Mike, okay, I understand. Listen, this is what I'm going to do for you. First, there's a program that allows the mech armor to camouflage, blend into the background. We'll put that program online. Also, we didn't have time to do this for you in the warehouse, but we can link the drone to your mech armor, so that you can have command of the drone at all times. We didn't do this previously because we wanted to see what was up here. And some," John surreptitiously glanced toward Weitz, "didn't want you to block the signal to the laptop."

Mike considered this for a moment. "Okay, that's acceptable, for now," he put emphasis on the, "for now."

"Are there any other weapons that you aren't telling me about?" He focused on John, who Mike felt was more honest and forthright than Weitz. Weitz just twitched and looked at the ground whenever Mike looked at him.

"Mike, no, I can honestly say, there are no more weapons that we can attach." John said attach with a slight inflection, and he glanced at Weitz again. John looked back at Mike when Weitz' eyes quickly darted toward him on the inflection, but John's eyes were firmly focused back on Mike, no interaction between the two.

Mike knew that there was something else, some other thing that might be able to help. He remembered the phrase, "big dog," that John and Lieutenant Pang talked about previously. Maybe it had something to do with that.

"Okay, no problem then. I think it would be a good idea if we had a way to transmit what the drone sees to the fourth floor. Since the rock interferes with the radio, can we set up a relay to send comms and video back down to the playroom?"

Weitz actually looked up at Mike, no longer interested in looking at his feet. He seemed eager to talk, "Actually, yes, we can set up relays, and we can monitor the laptop down there to see what's happening up here."

Mike looked at Weitz. Somehow, Mike felt like he had played into Weitz' hands. Too late now, though. He had the nagging feeling that Mitchem would have the feed in his office, watching for any mistake he could find. Ah well, spilt milk. No use crying.

"So, gentlemen, I think you should tell me about the lights."

Smith and Weitz looked guilty again. Smith spoke, "What do you mean?"

Mike motioned to the area in the meadow, "Do you see any electrical generators in the area?"

They shook their heads like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Mike continued, "So, I know about the battery in the Mech armor. I bet you have a larger battery in the facility. Am I correct?"

Smith's eyes narrowed, "Who told you about the batteries in the Mech armor?"

"It's not really important who told me about them. What I do know is that somebody invented a quantum battery, kind of like a perpetual motion machine, that never runs out of juice."

Smith nodded slowly, suddenly understanding that someone had been talking more than they should have, "Yes, it isn't quite that simple, but, in reality, that's exactly why the lights are still on."

Mike indicated that he was finished with his questions, "Thank you, gentlemen, that's all I needed to know." In a stroke, he'd confirmed what Bob had told him about the batteries and let Smith and Weitz know that Mike knew more than they were telling him. When he asked them questions in the future, they'd wonder if he already knew the answer and might be testing them.

With the small battle of wills won, Mike wanted to see more of the area where they were. He and John started looking at the monitor so that Mike could get the lay of the land. As he and John were occupied with the monitor, Weitz went back to get the relays. Mike knew he'd probably report to Mitchem as well.

The valley was a bowl with the stream, actually a small river, emptying out of the valley mouth to whatever was beyond. The valley was about thirty kilometers, or 18.6 miles long, surrounded by high mountains all the way around. There were a few places along the mountain walls that seemed to be passes, but they would have to scout to find out more about that. There were more meadows further down the valley toward the mouth. There was also a small lake close to the mouth, and plenty of ponds and streams throughout the valley, which would make it easier to get fresh water. Mike would have to see if they could rig some kind of pump to bring water to the facility.

Mike wondered about the progress down stairs, getting the carcass parts hauled up and started back down the cave tunnel to the shaft. He met Mickey, Luis Garcia, Mike Crandall, plus a skinny Airman named Richard Stein, who preferred to be called Rick, hanging the block and tackle. Bob was there to oversee the placement of the equipment.

"So, we're in business?" Mike asked.

Mickey nodded, Bob smiled, and the others hung back, letting the other two do the talking.

"I think we'll be in full swing in about thirty minutes," Bob explained.

"Yeah, right now, everybody else is down the elevator shaft, piling the meat up to get it out," Mickey said in agreement.

Mike moved over to the edge of the shaft and looked down. There was a growing pile at the bottom, with people moving back and forth, dragging more of the carcass onto the pile.

"Good idea to pre-position. Whose idea was that?" Mike asked.

Mickey slapped the skinny airman on the back, "Well, it was Rick's idea, and it was a good one."

The slap on the back almost knocked the airman over. He recovered, not gracefully, but able to stay on his feet. The airman turned red and started stammering. Mike grinned at him.

"Good idea, keep it up."

Mike looked back over the edge. He saw Mitchem standing down there, asking questions. Mitchem looked up. Mike looked him directly in the eyes, then moved back from the edge. "Gentlemen, I think trouble is going to be coming up to find me pretty soon. When he comes up, send him outside so that I can talk to him, okay." He turned to Mickey, "Don't break him, or anyone with him, comprende?"

Mickey had an innocent look on his face, "What if they try to break me?"

Mike gave him the 'don't mess with me look.' "No provocations, Mickey. If they move on you, I don't want you to damage any of them permanently. We need the bodies and may need the fire power soon."

Mickey nodded, grinning.

Mike turned around and walked back down the corridor. He walked to the top of the ridge, turned on the earbud, and asked for a SITREP from Everett.

"Nothing moving boss. I don't think there's anything around us right now. And we're getting good feed from the drone. Nothing large moving our way."

Mike acknowledged the report. "Okay, go ahead and have one person per hour on break, rotating shifts. I know you guys need to stretch your legs."

Soon, he saw the first team of three guys dragging the head of the monster out of the cave mouth. They pulled on three lines leading to a net that was wrapped around the thick skull. One of them was Airman Stein.

"Hey, Airman, hang on, I'm coming down to you."

The team consisted of the Airman, a civilian administrator named Ben Davis, and Luis Garcia. Mike smiled at the group and told them, "I'm going to be your security. Let's move the carcass out in this direction."

The area that Mike picked was about four hundred feet away. The head was pretty heavy, but since the three guys were able to drag it with the netting, they moved pretty quickly. The meadow was sandy and didn't have many rocks to get in the way.

Soon the chunks of carcass were coming out regularly. Buckets of feces, blood and gore were also being passed out of the cave. More people had climbed up to help drag it out. There were three teams of people dragging the carcass out, and six people on the rope to pull up the pieces. Once everybody got the hang of it, everything started moving smoothly.

Lieutenant Pang showed up with a rifle and had a Beretta 9mm holstered on her hip. She walked out as security with Mike for the teams hauling meat. Whoever was on break from the mech armor sat on top of the ridge, rifle ready as back up.

"Where'd you get the weapons?" Mike asked.

"I pulled them from security. They had extra, and they couldn't come up with a reason not to give them to me," she answered.

They worked for thirty minutes, then she stopped the group, "Mike, I need to take a whiz."

Mike looked around. "Well, if you go up top, you can hide behind one of the mechs and do your business. Nobody will look."

Pang looked at him, weary. Everybody was getting tired. "I think I'm pass false modesty by now." Pang turned around, "Airman, come here." She waited until Stein was about five feet away, and asked, "Have you shot one of these before?"

Stein nodded. Pang handed the weapon to him. "Go with Mike and guard, okay."

Stein took the weapon, turned to Mike. Mike used his thumb to indicate the next chunk of meat coming out of the cave. Stein nodded, and they walked over. The next team was dragging a lump of carcass, and Stein fell in beside them. Mike moved around to the other side of the crew. They walked out to the mound, maintaining a 360 pattern of watch as the team dumped the meat.

"Oh hell, what's that?" Mike heard it over his ear bud.

He turned. Pang had finished watering the lawn and was walking over to Mike and the haulers. She was caught out. Something large came tearing out of the bushes. It was a freaking bird, but the meanest looking bird that Mike had ever seen. It had a large beak, viciously hooked for tearing into prey. It stopped for a moment, confused by all of the targets. It looked around at the people in the meadow, and then started running directly at Lieutenant Pang.

It was a damn big bird, taller than Mike. It was moving fast, maybe too damn fast. Mike yelled and started running, trying to get to her before the bird did. One of the mechs was responding to the threat, but the speed of the bird, and its closeness to Pang, made it hard for the mech weapons to engage without hitting her. The mech armor didn't have enough time to get between the two. It took time for the armor to get moving at top speed, and it didn't look like it was going to make it. A bullet cracked by, missing the bird. Mike stopped, took aim, and started to shoot. Another bullet cracked, this time from the top of the ridge.

Then Pang did something unexpected. Mike thought about it later and should have known what was going to happen. Pang was a badass, and she was about to prove how much of a badass she was. She pulled her pistol, went into a perfect isosceles triangle shooting stance, left foot forward, bent at the waist and knees, and started pulling the trigger. The pistol barked five times, and the bird slid dead at her feet.

Time seemed to stop as everyone processed what they had just seen. Then from the top of the ridge, Tom's voice rang out, "That is the hottest thing I have ever seen a woman do." Then he started singing, in a bad karaoke voice, "Did you ever know you're my hero."

Pang slowly put the pistol on safe, scanned the area around her, then yelled up at Tom, "If you don't stop singing, the next bullet's for you!" A subdued, "yes ma'am," floated down to her. And then a chuckle.

Mike walked over, "You okay?" He could see her hands trembling, and she saw him notice. He didn't say anything about the tremors, which she appreciated. He heard a shot and turned around. Stein had put a bullet in the bird's brain pane. Mike cocked an eye.

Stein shrugged, "Too many horror films as a kid. They always get back up if you don't shoot them in the head." Mike and Pang looked at Stein for a moment, then Pang's laughter pealed across the meadow. When she turned back to Mike, she had the same saucy smile on her face that she always did. She pointed fingers at Mike and Stein, then asked, "Fellas', do you mind bringing my trophy back to the cave for me?" She turned, started whistling, and walked back to the cave.

"That's it, don't let 'em see you sweat," Mike thought. Mike turned to Stein, then motioned with his hands, "After you." Stein flashed an irrepressible grin. He walked forward and grabbed the feet of the large bird. Mike grabbed the bird carcass by the neck. They lifted and started hauling it back to the cave. They set it down off to one side. Pang walked over to where it lay, "I wonder if this thing tastes like chicken?"

Mike thought about it, "Well, I guess we need to find out. The MREs won't last forever."

After that incident, Mike changed the method the teams were using to take the carcass out to the pile, concerned that another predator would show up while they were working. Now, the carcass chunks were dragged to the front of the cave, and then one of his team in the mechs would grab it and take it over to the growing pile. With no one exposed except for the one in the mech, Mike felt it was a safer way to transport the meat outside.

The stench of the hacked meat rose into the air, and more scavengers were arriving. Some were small, but others were the size of dogs. As the pile of meat grew, the scavengers were getting larger.

Mike didn't like what he was seeing, so he climbed back into his mech to use different cameras to watch the activity. Mike keyed his comm link up, "Team, I think we need everybody to mount up. I want all five of us back in our mechs and we need to do close security next to the cave entrance. With the drone overhead, I'm not too worried about anything big showing up. I'm worried about one of these smaller scavengers following the blood trail back to the cave. They're small and agile enough that they may get past the mech armor. If they get past our security, they'll have a lot of slow moving prey to pick from downstairs."

Mickey spoke, "Hey boss. Just thought you would like to know, Mitchem is here and wants to talk to you when you have a minute."

Mike grinned. He knew Mitchem would hate that Mickey wasn't using his rank. Mike imagined Mitchem stewing at the slight.

"Roger, Mickey, I need you to hop into your armor and get it to the cave mouth so that we have our first line of defense set for the night."

"Is that an order, boss man?" Mickey asked.

Mike knew that game. Mickey was only following orders if he got into his mech armor now.

"Yes, that is a direct order. If anybody has a problem with it, they can talk to me."

"Roger boss, I'll relay the message."

Mike knew that Mickey was tearing out for the mech armor, just to piss Mitchem off.

Mike drove his mech to the cave mouth. They would set up in a straight line across the opening. As he walked back, the others on the team lined up in front of the cave, leaving the middle position open for Mike.

Mike sighed. He hated dealing with assholes. Self-important assholes were the worst.

Mike settled the mech into position then moved into the linebacker position. He spooled down the systems, but left the mech in standby mode, so that he could power it up quickly. The foam deflated, and he opened up the hatch, then climbed down to the ground. Before he got to the ground, he heard, "Who the hell do you think you are, telling my people what to do? You almost got Pang killed, you moron."

\--------------------------------------

### Chapter Thirteen – Now

It was Mitchem, of course. Mitchem was asserting his authority in front of the civilians and Air Force personnel. He wanted to show them he was still the big dog. He didn't know Mike too well if he thought this posturing would work. This time he had Staff Sergeant Murphy, and Sergeant Joseph with him. Murphy was the same one that told Mike that he and the team would be unloading the truck. They were part of the security team. They massed about 220, 230 pounds each, probably a little more since they were soft around the middle.

Murphy was a college linebacker and Joseph was a bouncer in Arkansas before they joined the Air Force. Murphy was black, from Detroit, and Joseph was a big, blond, corn feed southern boy. Big men, with large, muscled chests and arms, they were used to fighting. They carried side arms, and he could tell by the way they held their arms, they were ready to draw if need be. They both stood slightly in front of Mitchem. So, Mike put a smile on his face, held his arms down to his sides, with the palms of his hands open toward Mitchem and walked toward them. All three relaxed, thinking that Mike was going to try to smooth over the situation. A big mistake to make. Mike could see the triumph in Mitchem's face.

Mike lined up so that his left foot was pointed toward Murphy, and he stepped forward with his right foot, twisting his hips and his entire body into the punch that went into Murphy's solar plexus. Mike didn't want to kill or injure, because he would need fighting men. As his fist drove into Murphy, with his left foot planted, his right boot came up in a back-roundhouse kick that went across Mitchem's body and drove the heel of his boot into Joseph's solar plexus.

With both men on the ground, he twisted and faced Mitchem, who was trying to drag his gun out of the holster, panic on his face as he realized the large wall of flesh between Mike and him had been violently removed. Mike could tell that Mitchem had never practiced drawing his pistol. It was a kydex holster with a lock. Mitchem was pulling, but he couldn't figure out why the pistol wasn't coming out. Even if he got it out, Mike doubted Mitchem would have remembered to take the safety off. Mike drove the heel of his hand into the nerve on Mitchem's forearm, deadening the hand. In less than five seconds, all three were gasping in pain.

Mike took Mitchem's pistol, then Murphy's and Joseph's.

Mike stepped back, and addressing Murphy and Joseph, said, "Gentlemen, next time you come at me with bad intentions, it will be the last. Do you understand me?"

They painfully nodded their agreement. Murphy and Joseph couldn't voice it and wouldn't be able to do so for a while, their diaphragms in spasms. Mitchem glared at Mike, one hand holding the paralyzed arm. Mike looked into his eyes and saw raw hatred in his gaze.

Mike turned to Mitchem, "As to giving your people orders, you weren't around, and somebody had to take care of business."

Mitchem stiffened, his face turning red.

"What, did you go back to finish banging Dr. Randall on your desk?" Mike asked.

This last was said loud enough to get the attention of everybody standing in the area.

He heard an, "Oh damn, he went there," from John Smith.

Mitchem was steaming, "This isn't over."

Mike spread his hands, "I imagine not."

Mitchem turned on his heel and marched back to the cave, disappearing into the darkness toward the tunnel. As he walked, the civilians and Air Force personnel moved out of his way. Mike watched him disappear into darkness. Visibility in the cave was diminishing. They would have to figure out how to string lights down the tunnel.

Mike looked at the two security men on the ground. Murphy and Joseph were rubbing their stomachs, looking very unhappy. Mike squatted down on his heels, far enough away that they couldn't lunge at him, and looked them in the eyes. Mike could tell that, if they could, they would beat him to a bloody pulp. But, they weren't as sure of themselves as they were before. They were no longer sure that they could take Mike in a fight. He had their pistols, so that wasn't an option for them either. Mike could see them calculating the odds in their heads, and then reaching the conclusion that Mike had all of the cards stacked in his favor.

Mike let this sink in for a moment, "Gentlemen, I'm not trying to be the asshole here. I'm trying to make sure that we all survive to see the sun coming up tomorrow, understand? "

Murphy spoke first, "Yeah, well, that's not the way the Colonel sees it. He thinks you're undermining his authority."

Joseph spoke next, "And he's the boss. We follow orders."

Mike stood up, moved back, and motioned for the two men to get up from the ground. They moved to get back on their feet.

Mike nodded, "I can appreciate that. Loyalty is a good thing and speaks well of you. But his authority is derived through the government of the United States. You see anything resembling the United States here, now? The question becomes, would you rather have an administrator in charge, or a trained killer and leader of men who knows how to survive and live off the land?"

Mike wasn't an ego guy and hated acting like one. He just wanted to get the job done. Right now, he knew that he and his team were the only thing standing between the people in the facility below and total disaster.

Murphy and Joseph looked at Mike, and then turned their heads slowly to look at each other. Mike could see the cogs turning in their minds as they assimilated this information.

Mike slid the magazines out of both weapons and checked the chambers. A bullet ejected from Murphy's pistol, but not from Joseph's, "Joseph, you need to make sure you always have one in the chamber. It could be the difference between life and death. If shit goes south, you won't have time to charge your pistol."

Mike handed the empty pistols back, "Gentlemen, all I ask, is that you do the right thing, and figure out what that is mosh-schosh. People may get killed if you don't. Hell, people may still be killed, but at least you'll feel better about yourselves if you stand up for all of us, not just for that ego maniac, or that psychotic, Jamison."

The two security policemen didn't say anything to Mike. They turned, holstered their pistols, and walked back to the tunnel. When they got far enough away from Mike, they started talking to each other. He couldn't hear what they were saying.

Mike knew that Mitchem would be back with more people, trying to stack the odds in his favor. Next time, nobody would be off guard. Mike didn't know what else to do, other than what he was already doing, which was look to the safety of these people. He would probably end up getting shot in the back by Mitchem or one of Mitchem's people.

He walked back to the cave, and motioned to Pang to join him, "Lieutenant, there might be some big nasty's out there soon. We have the mech armor, and we'll be the primary defense, but you'll need a secondary in the cave at the mouth of the tunnel. You're going to need five people that are willing and able to shoot. You'll also need a third line of defense down in the warehouse."

Pang nodded, "Mike, please call me Jennifer, or Jen. I don't think rank is that important right now."

Mike agreed, "Okay, well, you all know the names of my team. First names it is."

Jen waved at Stein to come over to them, "Rick, I want you to go down and get some of the guys up here, pistols and M4s. We need people that can shoot to guard the elevator shaft at the bottom, too. Make sure they have standoff distance and can retreat to the stairwell on the other side of the gym. Use the M4/203s. If you can get Security guys, so be it. If not, then the administration people you work with, or any civilians that might have training."

Mike could tell that the young Airman was struggling with the fact that Pang was sending him down to sort things out in the facility. Mike reached over, and squeezed the young Airman's shoulder, "Rick, you can do this. We're depending on you."

Rick swallowed, "Sir, Ma'am, no worries, I won't let you down."

Pang smiled, "If I thought you would, I wouldn't put you in charge of defending the elevator shaft." Rick's shoulders weighed down with the new responsibility.

It was Mike's turn to reassure the Airman. "Don't worry; Lieutenant Pang will take charge up here, so send her quality Airmen that she can depend on. Downstairs, the people don't need to be as steady, they just need to shoot anything that comes out of the elevator shaft and be ready to run into the stairwell if things don't go well."

Mike stopped talking, cocked his head and reached to his ear, "Oh, hang on, Everett's on comms."

"Ah, Mike, you there? Please respond."

"Yeah Everett, I'm here, what's happening."

Everett sounded worried, "Ah, well, there seems to be a new player on the remains of the carcass. It's as big as a bear, has a bad disposition, and is running off the other critters. Oh, and that's the good news. The bad news, there seems to be a pack of them."

Mike responded, "On a scale of bears, are we talking black bear, grizzly, or polar?"

"Mmmm, I would say grizzly. Definitely brown bear, Kodiak size."

"Damn it." If Everett was concerned, Mike was concerned. This was not a good turn of events, at all.

He turned to Pang, "You need to get security here, as quick as possible."

She and Stein noted the concern in his face, "What's wrong?"

He motioned toward the front of the cave, "Large pack of very angry, bear sized carnivores out there. You need to get some shooters up here and get them quickly." Mike turned and hurried to the front of the cave. He could hear growling. Mike heard Pang send Rick to take care of organizing security.

It was twilight, and he could see large shapes around the bloody meat. What he saw and heard was chilling. As he climbed his mech armor, he could see more details and hear deep, angry growling as the animals challenged each other. It was a large pack of animals, thickly muscled. They were hungry and fighting to establish dominance.

Everett spoke up, "Mike, you better get your ass in the mech armor. I think we're up wind of them. When you came out, a few of them stopped and started sniffing the air."

Mike had no intention to be the next meal for these large carnivores. He thought about Jo and the baby. He promised Jo he would be back. If there was a way to get back, he was going to stay alive to make sure he found it. Mike cycled open the hatch and climbed into the armor. He put on his helmet and spooled up the systems. He could still smell the vomit. The IR and Starlight vision cycled up, and he could see the bear pack. There were a few smaller scavengers struggling around the pack to get to the food, but they were quickly run off or killed.

Mike did an ACE call, ammunition, casualty, and equipment. The team reported in, all green across the board. No one had problems with equipment yet. Equipment failure was Mike's biggest fear. If these big hunks of carbon fiber and titanium armor stopped working, there was no chance of survival for any of them.

The buffet continued, the bear pack snarling and hitting each other with paws the size of dinner plates. Mike wondered what pack life was like when the pack didn't have this much food. Then he realized, they had to have this much food all the time. Which meant there has to be an ecosystem that could feed this many large, mean carnivores, "Fellas, you realize, that from the size and amount of this pack of carnivores, there has to be some pretty big prey out there."

The net grew quiet, and then Tom, the hunter, started speaking, "Well, when you have dragon lizards the size of a school bus, and a pack of . . . friggin' bears, for God's sake, there has to be something that they can feed on. Small animals won't do, they need a lot of protein, and they have to have it pretty damn often."

Rob spoke, "That means that there are a lot of large animals in this world that can kill us?"

Tom followed up, "Uh huh, and most of them aren't going to be happy to see us. Or, they will be happy to see us as a new protein source."

Mike asked, "Any suggestions about the future?"

Everett started the round, ".338 Lapua."

Mickey said, ".50 BMG."

Rob threw in, ".50 Smith and Wesson."

Tom chuckled, "Nope, you're all under caliber on this one. You need a 750-grain bullet at 2700 feet per second. You need the A Square Hannibal .577 Tyrannosaur. Made to stop rhinos, hippopotami, and rogue elephants; guaranteed to stop a charging T. Rex, if you can find one that's alive."

"Does that actually exist?" Mike asked.

"Oh yeah," Tom answered, "I have a montage video on my laptop of people shooting the thing."

Rob asked, "Have you ever shot one?"

"No, but I did some work on a .500 nitro express that a fella was taking to Africa on safari. He was going after rhinos and he bought a double-barreled Anderson Wheeler .500 Nitro Express second hand for $23,000 and wanted to make sure that, when his life was on the line, all the parts were working correctly."

That conversation continued for the better part of thirty minutes. They talked about the energy imparted into the kill in foot pounds for each of the different calibers, which caliber was more accurate with which rifle. The conversation could continue for hours. The team was familiar with all of the weapons that they used. Tom was the expert, though. He was a hunter, hand loading all of his ammunition to ensure the perfect cartridge for his rifle.

He grew up shooting his dad's Winchester .30-06, and then moved onto his own Remington .308. Sniper school brought out the quest for knowledge, and now he knew every weapon out there that he might face across a thousand yards. He had also attended gun smith school in Pennsylvania and gotten his degree. Tom knew everything there was to know about guns and ballistics or knew where to find it.

The team was always like this when they expected trouble. It came from spending too much time in the danger zone. Mike watched this same banter among the many men he worked with over the years, in the Rangers, Special Forces, and black ops. It was the calm before the storm. They were relaxed but paying attention to business. As they talked, they monitored the situation with the bear pack.

They all knew that it was going to hit the fan, or at least they assumed it would. They just didn't know when. The killing would start as soon as the meat was gone and the bear pack back tracked the blood trail. There was always the chance that it wouldn't happen, but better to be prepared if it did. The banter continued. It would have continued if they were stark naked with bare hands facing the bear pack. It just wouldn't have lasted as long.

Then Mike got the call, and the entire team tuned in. It was Mitchem, but he could hear Jamison squealing in the background. "You bastard, you get out of that armor right now and come down here and face me!"

Mike clicked on the mic, "We did that already, you lost, remember."

"Screw you, get out here, I'm placing you under arrest, you jackass. And I'm going to arrest your entire team!" Mitchem was truly spitting mad, a term Mike had heard before, but never thought he would experience. He could hear the saliva gathering in Mitchem's mouth as he spoke on the radio. He could imagine the spit flying as Mitchem talked.

Everett spoke up on a different channel, one that only the team was monitoring.

"Hey boss, Mitchem is attracting some attention."

Mike looked at the bear pack and pondered what was about to happen. It was completely dark now. Mitchem probably couldn't even see the bear pack that was fighting over the meat. Mike watched as one, two, three of the big bears started looking over toward the cave.

Mike spoke over comms to Pang, "Jennifer, are you out there?"

Mitchem was the one who answered, "She isn't allowed to talk to you now. I'm in charge here. You'll talk to me!"

Mike's voice was calm. "Listen, Mitchem, you're about to step into a world of pain. Lieutenant Pang understands the security situation, you don't. Put her back on the radio."

Mike was familiar with curse words in eleven languages, usually hearing them before he killed someone. He could imagine the color of Mitchem's face as he cursed. It would have been amusing if not so tiresome. Mitchem was a turd.

"Mitchem, put Jennifer Pang back on the radio, or I'm switching to speaker, and everyone will hear."

This wasn't what Mike wanted. He knew it would attract the attention of the bear pack, and what happened next would not be pretty at all. Now, seven of the pack were looking over at the cave at the little man yelling among the tall, black figures. One tentatively started moving toward the cave, sniffing the air, stopping to lick at the blood on the ground.

"I don't care if you're on speaker or radio. It's not going to save you now," Mitchem was yelling at the top of his voice.

The bear started moving toward the cave with intent.

Mike flipped the switch. He was now talking through the speakers on the armor, not on the radio, "Lieutenant Pang, prepare for attack. The bear pack is coming. We'll try to intercept, but you'll need to kill anything that gets pasts us."

That was all it took. Mike's voice opened the dam. The pack surged toward the cave, anticipating new prey. There was a shriek over the headphones. Mike assumed that the bear pack was now in view of the people in the cave. The bear pack swarmed. Mike and his team fired with laser and rail guns. Blood erupted, the bears not near as tough as the dragon. The rail guns wounded and killed bears, but they kept coming. Then it was hand to hand. The bears were startled as the five mech armor suits came alive and started pounding them. They were smaller than the dragon lizard that attacked previously, but they were faster, more agile, making it harder for Mike and his team to stop them.

The bears were confused by the armor. They bit, clawed, slammed into it, and tried to crush it with blows from their huge paws. Nothing the large bears tried caused any damage. A few made it through to the cave and tried to find easier targets. Mike grabbed one by the leg and pulled it back out to pummel it until its head was mush.

Pang initiated the defense in the cave. She sprinted forward to get past Mitchem and his crew to keep them out of the line of fire. Since she was eager to get into the fight, she didn't notice that the security team was standing flat footed, looks of disbelief at the size and amount of the animals on their faces. She opened up with her shotgun and started pumping rounds into the hugely muscled, snarling beasts. She was dwarfed by the sheer size of the great animals. But she stood and killed, no fear as she snarled curses.

Jamison's mouth was slack with dismay. His heart jumped into his mouth, the only sound coming out a muted, strangled cry. When Pang's shotgun spoke, he squealed, then turned and ran. The sound of her shotgun stirred the security team from inactivity as they realized the danger. The rest of the security team started shooting, some with rifles, the rest with their pistols. Stein had been grabbed downstairs by Mitchem as he was setting up security and Mitchem brought him back up to the cave. When Mike announced the bear attack, he ran forward into the mix, slaying bears, putting himself between the security team and the bears, shoulder to shoulder with Pang. Spent shell casings flew through the air as he shot.

Three of the bears broke through the Mech team. One was grabbed by a leg and drug back out of the cave, its head pounded into pulp. One was riddled with bullets and dropped just past the cave opening. The last one made it through to the team, covered in gore, horrendous wounds weeping fountains of blood. Even as it died, it lashed out with one of its great paws, crushing Airman Babcock's chest. Babcock flew across the ground, his chest caved in by the blow, skin and flesh rended by claw. Blood streamed from his body as the bear corpse crashed against the floor. The large bear shuddered as death took it.

A pile of dead bears surrounded the mouth of the cave. Two of the bears were gravely wounded, in immense pain, crawling back toward the trees, blood gushing to create a huge blood trail. Judging from the other animals in the area, Mike didn't think they had a very good odds at living through the night. Mike took pity on the two wounded animals. He targeted the backs of the head of each animal and triggered his rail gun until each stopped moving. The rest of the pack lay on the ground, dead and dying.

Mike checked his display and looked at the camera feed into the cave. Pang was standing, shotgun smoking. The security personnel around her were reeling from the attack. Mike spoke over the speaker, "Lieutenant Pang, I need an ACE report."

"Ah, ACE report?" she asked.

Mike brought her up to speed, "yes, a status report. ACE, ammunition, casualties, and equipment damaged."

A look of understanding came over her face. She remembered from the fight with the dragon. She turned and interrogated each person, and then noticed the young airman's body lying on the floor, "Oh, God."

Mike asked, "What's going on?"

Pang answered, "One of our Airmen is down. I think he's dying."

Two of the security team ran forward to help Babcock.

Mike spoke again, "Jennifer, I'm coming out. Mickey come with me, security has a wounded man. Everett, you, Tom and Rob stand guard."

Jennifer turned and started talking to the security team. Emotions were running high. Many of the security personnel were upset as they talked to the lieutenant. Murphy was pointing back to the cave tunnel and yelling. Mike turned up his audio to catch what Murphy was saying.

"Those bastards left us! Mitchem left us! He didn't even look back to see if we were still alive or being eaten by those damn bears! Screw him! If Mitchem won't even stand like a man with us, then he can go to hell."

Mickey set the mech armor into standby, popped the hatch, and climbed down with his medic bag to check out the casualty.

Mike saw Jondreau there, looking shaken. Mike didn't know if it was because of the attack, the attitude of the security team, or because Mitchem abandoned them. Mike set the armor in position, felt the foam collapse, and then popped the hatch. Mike yelled down to the security team, "Do you mind if I come down and talk to you?"

The team still looked visibly upset. Murphy spoke, most of his emotion spent. He still had an angry expression on his face, "Nah man, you can come down. We won't do nothin'." Jondreau looked as if he was going to say something, but Murphy and Pang both glared at him and he shut his mouth.

Mike got back on the radio to his team, "Gents, I'm going out to do some talking. Stay alert. Everett, we need a shift for guard duty. One person on duty in the armor at all hours. I hope we've seen the worst of it for tonight."

"Yeah, me too. I'll make sure everything is copacetic."

Mike climbed down with his pistol, rifle, and tactical kit. He yelled over to Mickey, to see what was up with the condition of the Airman. Mickey shook his head. The Airman was dead.

He walked over to the Air Force security team. "Gentlemen, I thank you. If you hadn't helped us, that bear pack would be hunting our people through the facility."

Murphy had a dangerous look in his eyes. Mike could see Rick Stein in the background. Mike asked, "Did Airman Stein come to talk to you?"

Murphy nodded, "And Mitchem and Jamison lost their minds when he said you were looking for security for the mouth of the cave."

Mike spread his hands, "Well, I can understand that, but it wasn't just me. Lieutenant Pang knew there was a need for security. Both she and I asked Airman Stein to come and get you."

Pang nodded, "Yes, I did. You saw the size of those beasts. One bear is bad enough, but a pack of Kodiak bears was more than I could handle. If they got past Mike and his team in the mech armor, I wouldn't be able to stop them."

Mike continued, "My team will do everything we can to protect everyone, but we can't do it by ourselves." He motioned, indicating everybody in the cave, "We are the only thing between the people we work with, and the horrors that want to kill them." He paused to let this truth set in.

Jondreau, with a serious expression, asked, "What about Mitchem, Jamison?

Mike shrugged, "Well, now you know what they'd do in battle. So, you have a choice, follow a leader that has proven herself in battle with nightmarish, vicious predators, or follow the man that soiled himself and ran away to leave you to die. Your choice."

Mike looked at Lieutenant Pang. He was impressed with her courage. Hell, she faced the bear pack, and she didn't have armor, "Lieutenant Pang, could you come with me please?" He walked over to one of the corpses of the bears. He motioned for her to stand next to it. The head of the bear was as large as her torso.

"Look at this woman. She would be a snack for this beast. Where was she when the pack swarmed the cave?"

Murphy spoke, "Man, if she hadn't been there, they would have killed us all. She ran in front of us and started shooting. She was fearless." He looked over at Rick Stein, "Him too. He ran forward and started shooting before we even knew we were in trouble."

The security team was impressed with Pang. She'd proved that you don't need to be physically imposing to lead men into battle. An effective leader did need physical courage, and she was a ton of courage in a ninety-five pound package.

Mike asked, "Who do you want to lead you in battle?" He pointed at the tunnel, "Them," then he put his hand on Jennifer's shoulder, "or her?"

The expressions on the faces of the security team gave their answers. Only Lieutenant Jondreau seemed unconvinced. He challenged Mike, "What about you? Are you in charge here?" Murphy and everyone else in the cave looked interested in what Mike had to say.

Mike shook his head, "No, not at all. I'm in charge of my team. I want to make sure that all of us have a decent chance at waking up tomorrow. We need to find out what the hell is going on here. The world we know is gone, and it's been replaced by this new reality. I want to make sure, if it is remotely possible, we all return back to the world that we know. I think you know that Mitchem and Jamison can't do that for us."

Murphy nodded slowly, considering Mike's appraisal. Murphy seemed satisfied with Mike's answer. Jondreau didn't look as convinced, though. Pang didn't say anything, hoping things would sort themselves out. She was just happy that there wasn't going to be an armed insurrection.

Mike watched Lieutenant Jondreau. He was impressed that Jondreau didn't run. This spoke well for him as a leader. Hell, even the fact that he was backing his boss, Mitchem, spoke well for him. Problem was, Mitchem was worthless as a leader, less than manure that needed to be scraped off the shoe. These young warriors didn't fail Mitchem, but Mitchem sure failed them.

Mike heard someone say 'Ditchem' Mitchem. Mike almost grinned, knowing that nickname would make the rounds among the civilians and Air Force pretty quickly. It was catchy. It would stick. It was the type of thing that a leader dreaded. Mike knew that, soon, all the Airmen would be calling Mitchem that behind his back. Mike dialed back his military persona, and smiled, turning on the charm, "Okay, this is what we need. My team's going to stay on guard up here, one person at a time in the mech armor, with the drone up, and all sensors on to watch the surrounding area. If there's an attack, we can armor up pretty quick. So, I need some volunteers to guard my men as they sleep."

Pang, Jondreau, and Murphy moved together and started talking. It didn't take long to reach a consensus. Jondreau was the person to announce the decision.

Lieutenant Jondreau walked over to Mike and stuck out his hand. Mike reached over and took the hand in a firm grip. Mike could see the apology in Jondreau's eyes. Jondreau spoke, "Chief Duggins, since I'm in charge of security for this facility, I'll put together a list for guards to come up here and stand watch. How many men do you need?"

Mike nodded acceptance, "Well, two would be good for us. Plus, we have some cots on our pallet. If you could have two on guard, then two in cots to relieve them as needed, that would be perfect. I'll let you decide the shifts. My guys are doing two hour shifts to stay alert up here."

Murphy moved forward with Joseph, "Ah, Chief, Lieutenant, if you don't mind, we'll take the first shift up here."

Mike indicated that this was acceptable, and Jondreau looked relieved to have someone in place immediately. Jondreau gathered his security team and started back toward the tunnel. Pang stuck around a little bit longer. Mike motioned her over, "Jennifer, could you please send up our cots, our sleeping bags, and some MREs? Two boxes should be enough for now. We'll make sure that our guards get something to eat."

Pang nodded, "Yeah, Stein can stay, and I'll send up one of the admins. They can be your security backups for Murphy and Joseph. I'll get the cots and supplies up to you as well."

Pang shifted her eyes to Murphy as she talked, without Murphy seeing her do it. Mike understood immediately. It would be awhile before Mike completely trusted the security team. It seemed that Pang didn't completely trust them either. With Stein and another one of Pang's people, they could put Murphy and Joseph on separate shifts. Mike winked so that neither Murphy nor Joseph saw it. Pang nodded, knowing that Mike had insight to what she was thinking.

Mike stepped close to her, "Jennifer, we have body bags on the pallet. You'll need to send up one for Babcock."

A deep sadness shaded her eyes, exhaustion lining her face. She nodded.

Mike felt her pain, put a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed, "If you need to talk about it, I'm here, the team is here. We've all experienced the loss of friends on the battlefield."

She nodded, "I didn't really know Airman Babcock. He seemed like a nice guy." Tears welled up. Mike knew there was nothing he could do to help her now. She would have to work through this. He knew that the others on the security team would have to do the same. Pang inhaled deeply. She turned, then walked over to Murphy and Joseph, and asked both of them if they needed anything sent up. They said they needed some more 5.56mm for the rifles. She nodded and walked past them to the tunnel.

Mike watched her go, noting her posture as she walked. Mike clicked on his ear bud, "Hey, Everett, you can start rotating people for security. I need one person in mech to drag those bear carcasses over to the meat pile and move them away from the cave mouth."

"No problem boss, but I think we'll all do that. It will only take a few minutes for three of us to drag the carcasses over. I'll leave one on guard."

Mike was tired, "Roger, sounds good."

Twenty minutes passed as they dragged the carcasses to the mound of meat and bone. When they were done with the carcasses, Everett, Tom, and Mickey dismounted while Rob stayed in his for first guard duty. The three walked into the cave.

"Well, boss, what's the plan?" Everett asked.

"I asked Pang to send the cots up, plus our sleeping bags and MREs. After we're finished eating, I want us to rack out and get some sleep around the guard schedule you put together for us." Mike replied.

Tom exhaled loudly, "Thank God, I was hoping to get some chow and some sleep. Twenty swarming bears and a dragon is enough for one day."

Mickey nodded, "I'm so tired. I thought the day would never end."

Everett looked over at Murphy and Joseph, "What are they doing up here?" Stein was standing in the back.

Mike waved them over, "They're our security tonight, plus Lieutenant Pang is sending up one more. I want one of our team in the mech armor through the night, and we'll have two Air Force standing watch while we sleep."

Mickey spoke up, "and tomorrow, we start all over again."

Everett nodded, "Correct, just like we do every day we're above ground. If you want rest, you can always take the long dirt nap."

Mickey sighed. Tom and Everett looked beat. Mike could only wonder what he looked like. Mike looked at the cave. The center of the cave was rubbed smooth where the giant lizard's hide had swept all the rocks to the side.

" _What the hell was it that somebody called it? Oh, yeah, the dragon. As good a name as any,"_ Mike thought, except for that frill of tentacles it had around its neck. It was the ugliest beast that Mike had ever seen. The bear pack seemed familiar to him. The ratios of the head and face were different than any bear or dog he was familiar with, but at least they were fur bearing mammals.

There was a whistle from the tunnel. The group looked over. It was another Airman, Daughtry. Daughtry motioned for someone to come with him. Stein trotted over and they both disappeared into the tunnel.

Everybody was moving slowly. Mike looked up to see Murphy and Joseph watching them. Mike smiled, "the energy dissipates as the adrenaline wears off. Then you crash."

The others on the team nodded. Stein came walking out with two military cots and a box of MREs. Stein had his rifle slung across his back to keep it out of the way. Daughtry came out of the tunnel carrying sleeping bags, and a box with soft drinks in it. There were some more things to bring out of the tunnel, so everybody except for Murphy and Joseph went back to grab them. Soon, they were putting the cots together and staking out their bed locations for the night.

Mike motioned over the four airmen. "Guys, since Murphy and Joseph have more training in security, I'd like to pair you four up so that Murphy and Daughtry are a team, and Joseph and Stein are a team. Do you guys see any problems with that?"

Murphy, thought about it, then grinned, "Naw, man, we don't have a problem with that. You don't have to split me and Joseph up, though. We ain't going to jump you in the middle of the night."

Mike smiled back at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the look of concern on Daughtry and Stein's faces. Mike could see the light of understanding creep over Joseph's face. He actually looked embarrassed as he figured out what was going on, "Oh, ah, no man, it ain't like that no more. We don't have a beef with you."

Mike nodded, still smiling, "Yeah, I know it isn't." He didn't take his eyes off of Murphy. Murphy shrugged, "sure." Murphy motioned to Daughtry, "You mind taking first watch with me?" Daughtry had twang in his voice when he talked. His accent sounded like he was probably from west Texas.

"No, I'm not particularly tired. I reckon we can do that," Daughtry replied.

Mike pulled out his ear bud and handed it over to Murphy. "Make sure you give Rob a comms check. He's probably a little tired, so talk to him, keep him awake."

Murphy nodded his understanding, "No problem. After those monsters, I have no desire to have something like that sneak up on me."

"Make sure you do two hours on, then switch." He looked over to Everett, "What's the rotation for our watch?"

Everett was stuffing his face with a cold main meal from the MREs. He chewed for a few seconds, then swallowed. He motioned with his thumb over his shoulder at Rob's mech, "Rob, Me, Tom, Mickey, and then you."

Mike turned back to Murphy, "so wake us up every two hours in that order, okay?"

Stein spoke, "Sir, Lieutenant Pang wanted you to know, we'll be relieved at the end of four hours, and four more will be up here to pull security. Two will be from security, and two will be from other sections."

"Awesome. Now, if you four gentlemen don't mind, we're going to get something to eat, and then hit the sack."

The four airmen walked away to talk about the security shifts. Mike was relieved to see that they had night vision monoculars. It was getting dark outside, and the starlight monoculars would help them see any problems before they got too close. That, plus Rob monitoring the drone and active radar from the mech armor should reduce the possibility that they would be surprised by more monsters.

Mike sat down and opened a beef stew MRE. He had enough energy to eat the packet of beef stew, but he was too tired to eat the rest. He popped the top to a soft drink and took a long swig. When he was done with the food, he stood, walked over to the mouth of the cave and pissed. He walked back and fell into his sleeping bag.

Mike's mind wandered as he sank into sleep. Mike's goal for tomorrow was a thorough reconnaissance of the area around the cave and the valley. He thought about where they would get food, water. There would have to be a latrine somewhere away from where they were bedding down. And they had to bury Airman Babcock. He would talk to Lieutenant Jondreau about the service.

So many things to think about. And he still didn't know where the hell he was or how to get back to Jo. Thoughts of Jo and his baby filled his mind. He could feel the tears at the corners of his eyes. He wondered if he was ever going to see his wife or child again. "God, wherever Jo is, please take care of her. Wherever my baby is, please make sure that they're healthy. Please, if you're listening, let my child have a long, healthy, and happy life." He wiped the tears from his eyes.

Oblivion took over, and blackness sucked him down into a deep sleep.

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### Chapter Fourteen – Now

Matki Awrani had a tough night. He'd followed the demon queen back to the cave from her hunt. Now he stood motionless, hand on staff, one foot against the knee of the other leg in a position that humans have used since time immemorial. Matki Awrani, meaning "Touches Thunder" in the language of his tribe, watched the great Demon Queen. On her, the life and death of his tribe existed. It was an uneasy alliance, one the monster knew nothing about, but one they depended on. She had been the master of this valley since his grandfather was alive, and through the years, it was his family that watched her to ensure the tribe's survival.

Now, the critical juncture approached. Soon, there would be forty to fifty of her offspring leaving the nest to hunt through the valley. They were smaller than she and would be searching for smaller prey. This was his great concern. That was a time of violence and death for his people, when those smaller demons hunted in packs. As dangerous as she and her children were, however, the monster kept other demons from the valley, and demon children from other females were hunted relentlessly, killed and eaten, to keep them from competing with and killing hers. Other carnivores were hunted and killed by the demon queen, keeping their numbers low, so that his tribe only had to contend with her and her children.

As it was, the demon was not interested in his tribe unless one approached too closely. It took more energy to hunt them than the monster could get from eating them. It was another matter entirely for her demon children. When the small demon beasts came out, they would be ravenous, and the tribe would have to defend against them. His tribe's most vulnerable members would be moved into the caves up in the cliffs to avoid slaughter as the small demons hunted.

Because of this sacred trust, he watched. This was why the tribe valued Matki Awrani. Two older brothers were murdered while tracking the beast, their deaths agonizing as the demon queen played with them. His brothers made mistakes and died too quickly. They didn't understand that it was not just tracking the monster but understanding its moods. Matki Awrani spent years shadowing his father to learn the beast. Matki Awrani was different than his brothers. He was able to step into his father's footsteps lightly and had been doing so for thirty years since his father became too feeble to scout the beast. He learned the monster's habits. He could sense its emotions from its movements.

He waited for the demon queen to come back out of the cave, and was shocked when he saw the large, black demons come out instead. He was even more shocked to see the new demons drag the demon queen's head to the edge of the forest. Large bloody chunks of her carcass soon followed. He started shaking as he smelled her death. It was more than death and gore. It was her scent, the smell of her glands, her death scent. He was amazed that these creatures didn't smell it. Or maybe they did but didn't recognize it. A low moan of fear escaped him. The slaughter would begin soon.

Scavengers would come to the area, lured by the smell of the decaying meat. That wasn't the most dangerous problem. The smell of her death would spread on the wind, and other great demons would know that she was no longer in the valley. Other females would arrive to claim the territory. Males would know that this valley was no longer protected by the demon queen. More savage demons would come to claim the valley. Males, twice her size, would fight over the females. They would hunt, kill, and eat. Nothing would be safe from the rut and violence that would occur here.

Matki Awrani felt the scavengers before he knew they were there, an inner sense that had saved his life more than once. He quickly climbed the great tree, the new, giant demons be damned. He moved high, staying on the side away from the cave, out of sight of the demons. Time passed and he watched as the number of scavengers grew. His stomach growled and he pulled dried, spiced meat from a pouch. It was tough, and he had to suck water from his water skin to help soften it. At one point, he watched a child, a little girl, pull thunder from her pocket and kill a jongom, a murder bird. These were powerful demons, indeed. The day shifted into twilight and soon after, into dark.

He thought about when he could leave the area. Darkness was not his friend. There were many predators down there that could kill and eat him. He knew that most of the meat on the pile was probably gone, especially with the Talgit, the bear pack in the area. If he went down now, he would be hunted and torn to pieces. He was fast, but they would run him down.

He listened through the night. The pack of Talgit went into frenzy after the sun set, and with the moon hiding behind the clouds, there was no light to see what happened. There was the sound of thunder. He didn't need to see to understand what happened to the demons at the cave entrance. A pack of Talgit was formidable. He knew that he would see the carcasses of the demons on the ground in the morning. If he was lucky enough, the bear-pack would have enough to eat and would be torpid when he tried to sneak away. His only worry was the other animals in the area he would have to elude. Still, with the pack of Talgit close by, other predators might avoid the area. It was a long night, punctuated by the sound of violence and death. He was awakened constantly by the sound of animals moving through the brush. They were large, hungry animals.

He had to make water from the top of the tree. Pissing off the tree would make noise, as his water hit the ground, so he pissed down the side. He hoped that the smell of his urine wouldn't attract any predators. He sighed as the pressure eased. It was a very long night, one without any sleep for him. He shivered as the night continued, the temperature dropping further in the early morning. Darkness turned into twilight, and the light increased. With the clouds, the sun didn't fully light the valley immediately, but illumination increased steadily until he could see. Eventually, and not too soon for Matki Awrani, the sun was up fully, heating his body. He thought he would freeze in the night. Mist rose off of the ground as the sun heated the air.

He didn't want to move too quickly. The last thing that he needed was to attract the attention of either the Talgit or the demons. Either could mean his quick death. He stretched and retracted his legs, to get the blood flowing. There was a rustling below him, and he looked to the ground. He didn't see anything and held his position as he listened and looked for anything that might be hunting him. Time moved slowly, until finally, he was satisfied that there was nothing down there.

He moved his head around the bole of the tree. He inhaled quickly, not believing his eyes. The carcass of the demon queen was mostly gone, soft tissue rended from the bone. All of the Talgit were dead, their carcasses piled onto the bones of the Demon Queen. Small animals worried the meat and tore chunks to eat. The animals in this area had not eaten so well in quite some time.

That had been a large pack. He watched packs like that take down herbivores five times the size of the demon queen. Those pack bears were another reason that his tribe lived along the cliffs in the mountains. The large demon carnivores didn't climb rock, and the talgit were too big to climb onto the paths that his people used. There wasn't enough food that high up to feed those large predator packs, either. His tribe spent lifetimes carving into the cliffs to ensure their survival, to escape the large predators on the ground.

He looked at the five black demons, guarding the entrance to the cave. Four were crouched with their fists against the ground. One was standing. He was amazed that these demons were still alive. There were even a few of the smaller demons standing back inside the cave entrance. One seemed to be breathing smoke out through its nose and mouth!

Matki Awrani thought about what he was seeing. Maybe these were demons of the underworld. He traveled into areas where the land shook and mountains spit red and black blood out of the earth. These demons could possibly come from some area such as that.

He was amazed by them. As he watched, more came to the front of the cave to make water, or squat to defecate. There were many male demons, but not as many females. And they were different colors. They were pale pink to dark, dark mahogany. They all looked human to him, but no human could have such powers. Only the sky gods had such power. The smell of fire was in the air. Matki Awrani watched as smoke drifted out of the cave. His mouth watered as he smelled food cooking. He wished the demons would bring him some. He was tired of eating the dried meat and fruits that he carried.

He was not quite so worried now. The Talgit were dead. All of the scavengers in the area should all be on the pile of carcasses worrying the fresh meat. Right now, if he hurried, he should have a better chance to make his escape. He started climbing down, then stopped, to listen and look. In this forest, it paid to be patient. The wind wasn't helping him, though, as it intermittently picked up and rustled through the trees. He stopped. He waited. He'd learned patience at a very young age and being patient saved his life many times. The sun was up, and soon the coolness of the morning would move into higher temperatures. He wanted to be well away by then. He sipped water, moving slowly, and ate some more dried meat. He heard nothing in the surrounding vegetation. He started climbing down the tree again. Finally, his feet were on the ground, and he listened. Hearing nothing, he started to move into the forest.

Now, stealth and speed were his friends. He would move slowly, stealthily until he was away from this killing ground, then he would pick up speed to get away from the new demons. He had to get home to tell the tribe about the death of the old demon queen and the arrival of the new demons. He walked slowly away from the tree, moving from shadow to shadow. Sound and quick movement would get him killed. He was ten feet from the tree, then twenty feet. Insect activity started to pick up. He could feel the insects landing on him, flitting around his face, as if they were in collusion with the demons, trying to make him give his position away.

At thirty feet, an uneasiness hit him. His senses went to high alert. Something wasn't right. He felt like he was being watched. Then he heard it. Off to his right, something was moving. He could hear the slight rustle of plants as the beast changed position. He heard something else to his left, a soft rustle of underbrush. He was being stalked by more than one creature. It may have been the thing that tried to climb the tree the night before, or it could be something that smelled his urine. Either way, it was not good. This spoke of patience, and patience meant an ambush predator, which meant a creature that would make a fast and violent attack. And now, he was in the kill zone of the ambush. If the animals were moving, then they were getting ready to spring. There was no way he would make it back up the tree from here. The beasts would grab and kill him before he could make the first branch.

He stood motionless, knowing that any sudden movement would cause the animals to charge. He could only think of one thing that might save him. If these ambush predators ran into a bigger predator, then he might survive. He could only think of one predator that could stop them. He whirled and ran, dodging around trees, trying to put distance and solid objects between him and the predators behind him.

He heard the brush behind him explode as the predators broke their cover. They were maybe thirty feet behind him and would catch up quickly. He heard a thump and a growl as something slammed into a tree. Luckily, he was out of the tree line into the open field before the beast got up and ran again. He opened his mouth and started screaming as he ran, hoping to wake the sleeping demons.

The carcasses of the dragon and bears were on the other side of the meadow, but as soon as he started screaming, the animals on the carcass mound turned and looked at him. He heard the sound of footfalls behind him. His hands were straight out, elbows and knees pumping as he sprinted across the meadow. His feet were different than those of a homo sapiens. His foot was longer, thinner, except across the ball of his foot. As he ran, the heel of his foot rose from the ground. The difference in foot structure propelled him faster than a human could run. He was much faster from a walk to sprint than his pursuers were. But they were gaining on him as they warmed up to the sprint. His intent was to run to the large black demons and hope they would kill each other. He hoped that he was small and inoffensive enough that they would ignore him for the most dangerous threat.

The scavengers bolted away as the predators behind him burst out of the woods. He didn't look around, knowing that looking back would throw off his stride and decrease his speed. He was getting close to the cave and he saw activity there. If he made it to the cave and there were no demons there, he would run directly into it, hoping that the beast chasing him would go after different prey.

What he didn't plan for was a rock flying out from under his foot, causing him to cartwheel to a stop next to one of the large black demons. As he tumbled, he saw what was chasing him, and how close it was to getting him. He was not going to live through this encounter and knew that his wife would be mourning him when he didn't come home.

The grasnigs were fur covered lizards, with hard beaks, bounding across the meadow toward him. They were vicious and one of the fastest runners in the forest. If he hadn't weaved through the trees, they would have caught him quickly and killed him. The beast was getting ready to leap, when the light disappeared. Something large and dark blotted out the sun, casting Matki Awrani in shadow.

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Mickey was on watch when he heard the scream. It sounded like a human scream, coming from the edge of the forest. But he knew the entire crew was behind him in the cave or down in the facility. He turned to look in the direction that his sensors indicated the scream came from. He saw a short man, reddish brown, come barreling out of the forest, running for his life. The man had long hair, braided back to keep it out of his face. His beard was also braided, streaming behind him as he ran. His clothes were muted brown and green. The little man was running incredibly fast and would have blown away any Olympic runners. As he ran a few hundred feet into the meadow, two nightmares came crashing out of the vegetation behind him. The monsters had massive heads shaped like a parrot's, with an elongated bill. They had powerful legs that powered them forward after the small man. They were built for the forest, with short, brindle patterned fur. There was a small mane around their heads that was flattened by the wind as they ran. A scream like a steam whistle sounded across the meadow as they chased the little man.

Then disaster struck. A rock went flying out from underneath the little man's foot, and he went tumbling to land close to Mickey's mech armored feet. In a split second, Mickey made his decision, the mech armor moving instantaneously to his mental command. He stepped over the man on the ground, putting the mech's bulk between him and the two strange beasts. One of the beasts crashed into Mickey's mech and he grabbed the tail of the other beast as it tried to maneuver around him. He hoped the little man had gotten out of the way in time.

The two beasts fought like wet cats. He pushed one of the beasts away from him and brought the other one around in an arc that finished in an impact with its mate, catching it as it recovered and started to leap at Mickey. The bodies of the beasts impacted in a crushing blow, bones snapping. Mickey ran forward to the two beasts as they tried to rise. He launched a powerful kick into one, sending it flying back toward the trees. The other one grabbed the mech armor wrist with its beak. Mickey pulled the creature up, feeling the impact as its powerful hind legs came up, trying to disembowel the armor. He launched a vicious punch which, with the blade on the top of the fist, snapped bones and sliced flesh on the writhing beast.

The beast let go of the mech armor wrist with a shriek, landing on all fours and moving slowly back to its partner lying on the meadow. The other beast was breathing heavily but couldn't move. Both of the beasts had sustained major injuries. It was doubtful that either of them would live through that amount of damage.

Mickey triggered his rail gun, sending a blast of metal into one, and then the other, heads exploding as the incandescent iron pellets ripped into their skulls.

Mickey heard a crackle as Everett started talking, "Mickey, what are you doing? What the hell's going on?"

"Everett, check behind me. Those monsters were trying to kill a man I haven't seen before. The way he's dressed, he has to be local. They were intent on eating him, so I decided to intercede."

"Ah, okay, I understand. Let's see what we have here."

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Matki Awrani was amazed by what the dark demon did for him. It jumped between him and the grasnigs and saved his life. That was very unexpected. He watched the fight in dismay, amazed that something so large could move so quickly. He heard footsteps behind him. There were three demons there, all with thunder sticks. They looked human, but that didn't guarantee that they wouldn't do him harm. He thought about running, then put it out of his mind. He remembered the murder bird from yesterday and knew they could kill him before he could get back to the forest.

The demon in the middle said something in a language that Matki Awrani didn't understand. The demon moved forward and held out his hand to Matki Awrani. He grasped the hand and felt powerful muscles pull him to his feet. He limped as he stepped gingerly on his twisted ankle. The thunder sticks were all pointed in his direction. A look of concern crossed his face. The demon on the right looked at him, down at the thunder sticks, and said something to the demon in the middle.

The demon in the middle lowered his thunder stick, and then slung it over his back, and the other two pointed their weapons away from Matki Awrani. The demon in the middle took a curious thing off of his back, held a long vine to its lips, sipped something, and made a smacking noise, indicating pleasure. Everett held out his water bladder to Matki Awrani. Matki Awrani reached out and took the bladder from Everett. The bladder was covered with soft material and had two straps. Matki Awrani held the bladder by the straps and put the end of the long vine in his mouth and sucked the fluid. Surprise lit his eyes. It was cold water.

Everett pointed to the cave, made a motion with his hand indicating that he wanted Matki Awrani to go with them. He, Murphy, and Stein turned and walked back to the cave, leaving Matki Awrani alone in the meadow with the bladder of water. Matki Awrani felt the impact through the ground as the black demon moved past him, then stopped, turned around, and went still as it assumed its guard position in front of the cave. The other three entered the cave, seemingly uninterested in what he would do next. Now Matki Awrani was curious. He no longer felt he was in danger from these demons.

Truth be told, he didn't know what he was going to do next. He stood there for a few minutes, looking at the formidable line of giant black demons. He took another pull on the water bladder. He realized the scavengers were still out there and would be back soon. His ankle was sore, and he doubted he could out run anything at this moment. Plus, he was hungry and he could smell food cooking. He really didn't want to spend another night at the top of a tree, shivering.

He made up his mind. Matki Awrani hoped that he wasn't making a fatal mistake. He had a slight limp as he walked over to the cave, stopping at the entrance to let his eyes adjust. As they did so, he could see nine of the demons, sitting down on silver and green furniture that looked very fragile but was able to hold two demons. They looked like men and acted like men. These demons all had different color skin, with different color hair, and some with no hair at all. He was beginning to adjust his ideas about these creatures being demons.

The thunder sticks were close by the men, within arm's length. There were silver cups in front of them over a small flame. They stirred the food in the cups. He could smell the food, but the fire smelled unusual, not like wood burning. It was hexamine, something that he wouldn't know about. Everett indicated the seat next to him, motioning Matki Awrani over to him. Matki Awrani limped over and sat down, a squeak sounding as the fabric shifted against the aluminum frame. Everett stirred the food in the cup, and it smelled delicious.

Everett picked up the cup and held it up to his face. He scooped a spoonful of the food, held it up, blew on it to cool it, and took a small taste. Everett caught Matki Awrani's eye and turned the cup so that Matki Awrani could see how he held it, with the two wires. Everett put the cup down on the cave floor at Matki Awrani's feet and motioned toward it. Matki Awrani reached down to the cup, and picked it up the way Everett showed him, using the wire handles.

He grabbed the spoon, used it to take some food, and then lifted it to his mouth. The smell was mouth-watering. He stuck his tongue out and just put the tip of his tongue on the food. It was amazing. The food tasted fantastic, with flavors that exploded across his taste buds. His eyes rolled and he put the entire spoon into his mouth. He quickly started shoveling the rest of the food in. He heard someone say, "Beef stew." He didn't care. He tucked into the food and was soon licking the spoon clean and dipping his finger into the metal cup to get all of the tasty food out.

One of the other men passed over another cup of food, and said, "Spaghetti and meatballs." He tasted it with the tip of his tongue again and was rewarded with a wonderful taste that quickly enveloped his mouth. That cup also went down quickly. There was a pop and a fizz and he was handed a can. Mike had a can also, and showed him how to drink out of it, showing Matki Awrani the hole and how to tip it to his mouth.

The can felt cool in his hand. He put the can to his lips and tilted it up. He was rewarded with the sweetest thing he had ever tasted in his life. It fizzed as he drank, tickling his tongue. It was cool, refreshing, and sweet. He was over his initial hunger, so he slowed down with the drink, enjoying its taste, not knowing when he would ever be able to taste it again. All too soon, the fizzy drink was finished, and he sat it down on the ground, looking at the men around him.

The demon across from him, pointed at itself, and then said, "Mike," and pointed back at him. He didn't understand at first, until the demon next to him pointed at itself and said, "Everett." Then Everett pointed at him. Then "Rob," "Tom," "Rick," "Murph," "Bobby," and "Brian," all said their names, and pointed at themselves.

He understood and pointed at himself. "Matki Awrani."

Mike watched the small man eat the food they gave him and his expression when he drank the coke. The expressions indicated that he never tasted food so good before. The soft drink sealed the deal, "Everett, I don't know who this guy is, but he's not from where we're from."

Everett nodded, "Yeah, I know, and some things are different about his physiology. His legs are different, and his arms are longer, stronger, looks like he climbs a lot. Did you see how fast he ran across the meadow? There's no Olympic sprinter that could sprint half that fast."

Mike thought about this, "Well, if nothing else, he's a source of information for us. We need to learn his language, figure out where we are, and what the hell is going on here."

Everett was surprised when Matki Awrani grabbed his wrist and tugged on it. Matki Awrani stood up and motioned for Mike and Everett to follow him. He limped over to the cave mouth and waved for them to come with him.

"I think he wants us to follow him," Rob said, stating the obvious.

Mike nodded, "So, let's follow and see what happens."

Mike clicked on his ear bud, "Mickey, we're coming out. Make sure there's nothing out there to give us a surprise."

"Roger boss, I don't see anything that might be trouble, just some scavengers on the bones."

Mike stood up and grabbed his rifle and started walking toward Matki Awrani. The others followed. Mike turned to address the group, "Rob, Rick, I need you two to stay and make sure nothing comes in behind us, okay?"

Rob sat back down with a smile on his face, picking up the cup of coffee he just brewed, "Sure thing, boss man." Rick nodded and sat down, not saying anything.

Matki Awrani limped over to the bones of the dead lizard dragon. As the group approached the pile of bones, there were still some scavengers the size of small dogs on them. They yelped and ran as Mickey's laser hit them with enough energy to chase them off. Soon they were standing next to the skull of the dragon. Matki Awrani slapped the top of the skull and started a pantomime with his hands. He held up hands and fingers, then pointed toward the mouth of the valley. He pointed at the skull, held his hands apart, indicating the size of the skull. Then he pointed at the mouth of the valley, and stretched his hands wider, much wider, and then started holding up more fingers. Mike moved his hands to indicate that the small man needed to slow down and repeat. Matki Awrani did the sequence five more times before Mike got it.

Everett was following the exchange, had an idea, but wasn't quite sure he understood, "Mike, do you understand that?"

Mike nodded, "yes, unfortunately I did. Or I think I did. He's saying there are many more like this one, over the pass, and they're bigger than this one was."

Everett's face blanched, "Bigger?"

Mike nodded again, "Yes, bigger. And did I say more?"

Everett nodded, "Yes you did."

"Did I tell you that a bunch of them are coming here?"

"No, you left that part out."

Behind him he heard Tom curse.

They turned around and walked back to the cave.

"This change everything," Mike said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I thought we would explore this area, find water, food, things we can eat without dying. Maybe build a building around here to house our people so that we don't have to climb up and down the ladder. But, from what he's telling me, I'm thinking we don't have a defensible position. If there are a bunch of those giant dragons, then we could be in deep trouble," Mike explained.

"Ah, crap," Everett said.

Mike nodded and said in all seriousness, "Ah crap, indeed."

When they got to the cave, they scattered to sit and pull maintenance on their weapons. If there was going to be a fight, they all wanted to be prepared. Rob looked around at the crew, "I guess it was bad news, then."

"Yeah, the worst," Mike informed them. He pointed to Stein, "I need for you to go grab Lieutenant Pang, tell her to come up here so we can talk please."

Stein nodded, then stood up and walked back into the tunnel.

Thirty minutes later, Pang walked up the tunnel toward him, with Stein in tow.

"What's up?" She asked.

Mike motioned her over, and she saw the short man.

"Who's this?" she asked.

Mike nodded toward Matki Awrani, "Meet our new friend, Matki Awrani. I wanted you to meet him before I took him downstairs."

Pang looked at the brown man. And the brown man looked back. This was the child with thunder in her pocket. But now he could tell that she was not a child. She smiled. Matki Awrani looked at Jen, and his eyes widened at the beauty before him.

Mike pointed at Jennifer, and said, "Jen."

"What, you don't want to give him my rank," she said, teasing Mike.

"Sorry, need to keep things simple." Mike answered.

Mike started explaining to Jen, "I think that we may have a problem. From the pantomime that our friend here did, I think that he's saying that there are many more like that dragon we killed. They're bigger, and they're coming here."

Pang asked, "How does he know this?"

Mike shook his head, "Until we know his language better, and don't have to rely on sign language, I think we just have to plan for the worst."

Pang's head tilted, "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I think we'll need to do the same thing we did last time, but if we can find some belt fed machine guns, we'll need those. Murph tells me that they have SAWs in security. Plus, we need the techs up here to go over the armor at least once per day for maintenance, just to make sure that they don't break down in the middle of a fight. I'd hate for two or three of those dragon monstrosities to play crack the nut while I can't do anything to fight back."

Pang nodded, "I'll talk to the tech team and see what we can do. A schedule will be easy to put together."

Mike continued, "As well made as this armor is, we'll need replacement parts. I know you designed them to be as tough as possible, but we need to ensure their viability."

Pang frowned for a minute, "Well, we have a fabrication area, but I'll have to check with Hank Bethel about what they can and can't do about building parts. I know they have some replacement parts already made, but the fabricators might be able to make more."

Mike nodded, "We also need to replace all of this ammunition that we're using. If you can figure that out with your tech geniuses, I would love for that to happen."

Pang smiled, "Okay, so consider this Christmas, what else do you want Santa to give you."

Mike leaned over and grabbed her hand in both of his, "If there are more upgrades for the mech armor, I suggest you go ahead and have them installed so that we can start using them."

Pang looked into Mike's eyes, and saw the concern in them, "Sure, I'll tell the Techs that they should tell your team everything, and to get the mech armor fitted up with full kit."

Mike let go of her hand, "Thanks."

He leaned back, "Another question, do you have anybody that's good with languages, who might be able to figure out what Matki Awrani might be trying to tell us?"

Pang thought for a minute, "I'll check around to see, let me talk to everybody. We may be able to figure something out about that."

Mike nodded, "I need to walk back down with you. We need to introduce everybody to Matki Awrani." He waved Everett over, "Everett, you need to go with us. I think it's time for a big meeting. We need to get buy-in from everybody. I don't know when the dragon lizards will come, but they might be here soon. I want everybody prepared for the possibility that we need to move. There's a lot of work to do, to stay here or to move to another location. Either way, they need to know." Jen and Everett agreed. He waved and attracted Matki Awrani's attention and motioned for him to join them.

The four of them started walking toward the back of the cave. As they walked, Matki Awrani noticed that every man in the cave turned and watched Jen. That was when he knew that they weren't demons at all, but instead, were men like him. A large smile broke across his face.

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Chapter Fifteen – Now

Mike's mind moved through a growing checklist. They'd have to find food, water, and dig latrines. He needed to know more about the capabilities of the engineers, techs, and fabricators, and that meant a big meeting. They walked back through the tunnel, with Matki Awrani limping beside them. The elevator shaft opened up before them. Matki Awrani showed curiosity. Though Mike, Everett and Jen didn't know it, this was Matki Awrani's second time in the tunnel. He'd snuck in here to check on how many eggs were present. It had been a dangerous mission; one he undertook when the Demon Queen had been busy with a rival female.

He watched the three grab the rungs of the ladder and climb down the shaft. Matki Awrani grabbed the rungs and started down with them. Matki Awrani was careful where he put his feet, careful of the slick blood and fluids, plus all of the cable and the metal on the top of the elevator. The other three waited for him on top of the elevator, and then they stepped out into the play room together. Matki Awrani was in awe. He looked around the room itself, stunned at how big it was. He was amazed. The light from the ceiling was unprecedented. He knew these people were not demons, but he was beginning to believe that they were gods. "They have captured the light of the sun," he thought.

Mike looked at Matki and smiled. Mike knew that this primitive man had probably never seen anything like this in his life. Mike looked across the room at the people looking back at him, and at Matki. He wasn't sure who looked more surprised. Everett was already walking over to the crowd, and Mike put his hand on Matki Awrani's shoulder, guiding him toward them. Mike called out, "Hello everybody, I would like to introduce you to Matki, a local that has given us some information about our area."

The scientist came over immediately. Mike could see the question on their faces. "Is he human?" was the thought in their minds. The group walked to Matki Awrani and Mike, surrounding them. Dr. Nachman spoke, "Okay, everybody, we'll have plenty of chances to examine the new addition to our group, but I think we need to back away before somebody frightens him into doing something rash. If he doesn't understand what we're doing, he could get violent, so let's take it easy. It looks like he needs to get that ankle checked out as well." From that time forward, Dr. Nachman was in charge of Matki Awrani. The group thinned out, giving them room. Dr. Nachman pointed to himself and said, "Ed," then pointed at Matki Awrani and said, "Matki?"

Matki Awrani shook his head, pointed at Ed, and then said his name, then he pointed at himself and said, "Matki Awrani." Mike started. In his mind, the small brown man was Matki. It was part of Mike's cultural bias to hear two names and think the second name was the familial name, but evidently that was not true here. Everybody started taking turns introducing themselves to Matki Awrani and telling him their names.

Almost everyone in the facility was now in the play room. Jennifer had done a census. The amount of people surprised Mike. There were 54 people in the facility, most of them currently sitting against the slope of the floor. Ditchem' Mitchem was up on the first floor, pissed off at everybody and everything around him. Jamison was missing.

Mike positioned himself downslope so that the angle of the floor allowed people at the back to see over the heads of the people in front. Some had to shift their positions to face him. People at the back of the crowd stood. Every one of their faces showed concern. They were quiet. None of them looked happy, and Mike couldn't blame them. They were fearful about what they were going to hear. Mike started talking, "How is everybody?"

People started mumbling. The mumbling increased in intensity, until people were shouting questions at him. He let the shouting and yelling continue for the better part of a minute, until the crowd realized that he wasn't going to talk until they stopped yelling. The noise subsided.

He pointed to one lady, Willow Banks, and said, "Yes Ma'am, what's your question?"

She blushed. Since she was in her early thirties, she wasn't used to being called ma'am. "Must be a Yankee," Mike thought to himself. Growing up, Mike's dad would have boxed his ears if he didn't show respect to women and his elders. That and his military background ensured the continued use of the title.

Willow said in a melodic, clear voice, "Where are we? What happened?"

Mike cleared his throat. "Willow," he nodded to her, "I have no idea where we are, or what happened to us."

That admission caused the noise to swell again. He knew that his honesty would probably cause consternation among the crowd. He held up his hands and motioned for the crowd to quiet down. The noise subsided, and he started talking again.

"Right now, I wish I could tell you that everything was okay, and that everything top side was exactly the way it was before we came to work. I wish I could tell you that you could walk over to the elevator there," and he gestured at the clawed and sheared elevator doors, "hop in, ride it up to the warehouse up top, walk through the building, get in your cars and drive home." He paused and took a breath, "but I can't tell you that."

Somebody in the back of the group yelled, "What the hell is going on?" Another yelled, "Where are we?" The crowd was talking over each other, all at once, some yelling, and Mike wasn't going to be able to calm them down. One of the women in the crowd started crying. The crowd possessed its own life and Mike had to wait them out. Finally, the recriminations and yelling died. The crowd was sullen. They faced him expectantly. The expressions in the crowd varied from anger to hurt and dismay. He nodded to the crowd and started speaking.

"There's nothing beyond that elevator that anybody here ever expected to see. When the incident first happened, a large creature, looking like a nightmare version of a dragon and a dinosaur melded together, ripped open the elevator doors, and came crawling in. My team, with the help of Lieutenant Pang, and a few of you, killed it," Mike motioned toward the elevator, and then nodded at Pang. Those in the crowd that hadn't been present had heard about the attack of the dragon, and her actions to fight the bear pack attack above. They looked at the young Lieutenant with renewed respect. She blushed at the attention.

Mike smiled, thinking, "All hail the mighty Dragon Slayer."

Some of the crowd smiled in response to the blush. One of the tech fabricators, a burly man named Will Christopher, only a few inches taller than Pang, gave her a pat on the back that made her step forward with one foot to keep from falling over.

Mike raised his voice and continued, "After that, my team went up the elevator shaft, and we found nothing that made sense to us, or anyone else that's seen it. Everybody who's been up the elevator shaft, walked out the tunnel, and looked outside can tell you the same thing. Nothing's the same up there."

2nd Lieutenant Latricia Franklin raised her hand and spoke when Mike pointed to her, "What's up there? I only came down here about an hour ago. I heard stories, but I don't know what's happening here."

Mike smiled, "Well ma'am, I could tell you everything, but you probably know most of it." He continued, "The world, well, it blinked for lack of a better term. And when it came back, we were in the situation that we find ourselves in now. The facility that we're in," Mike lifted his hands to the building around him, "tilted, and the rest of the facility above the 1st floor is gone. Part of the elevator shaft, the very top where the concrete blast door protected the old missile silo, is completely gone. There's a cave where that concrete bunker used to be. The structure up top, the warehouse, the guard shack, the administrative offices, the parking lot, are all gone. Our old reality, is gone." The enormity of the situation shifted their emotions to a bleakness that dominated their features.

"I don't know if this is a bad dream, if we suddenly shifted to an alternate reality, a different universe or if this is a mass hallucination. I just don't know." Mike paused, "What I do know is this. My team and your security team stopped twenty, large, bear-like creatures from coming into this facility. Had that pack of animals gotten in here, they would have hunted down and killed everyone. But, I want you to know, as long as we're alive, we'll continue to protect you. I know that we have some extremely smart people here. We have computer techs, doctors, PhDs, fabricators, electricians, bio-mechanical engineers, and good people like you, Latricia. We'll figure this out. Somehow, someway, we'll figure this out."

Mike looked at the faces before him. Some were fearful. Some were stunned. Some were resolute, "We've maintained security, but we all have to be in survival mode. My team and the security team have done the basics, and secured the area from predators, but we still have a lot to do. Has anybody here been through SERE school?"

A few people, military and civilian, nodded.

"What's the first thing we need to survive?" Mike asked.

"Water," several shouted out.

"And what's next?" Mike asked.

"Food, shelter."

Mike grinned, "Well, luckily, we have shelter, and according to the smart guys in the tech squad, we have power for," Mike paused, pointing at Garcia, "how long?" Garcia and Smith were standing next to each other. As the crowd looked at them, they looked at each other. Garcia shrugged, and Smith turned to Mike. "We don't know; we haven't tested the batteries' full capabilities. It could be as short as six months. Or, hell, it might last a lifetime."

Mike shrugged, "So, there you go, we have shelter, we have heat, cooling if we need it. For now,"

Mike looked over at the fabricators. He looked at Hank, the foreman of the fabricators. "Hank, can you make tools for us?"

Hank frowned, and then nodded. "Yeah, if you have the specs, we can build it for you. Our supplies aren't endless, though. We can fabricate a lot for you, but once the supply of metals is gone, we can't build anything else."

Michelle Tomiko spoke up, "Mike, just so you know, Willow, Billy and I, we create the carbon fiber that the mech armor is made from. As long as you can supply us with carbon, we can make you clothes and implements. We have the technology to make the carbon fibers rigid. We just need the casts of the tools that you need."

Mike smiled, "See, we have enough big brains around here. We can probably solve a lot of problems that are going to crop up." The faces in front of Mike brightened, knowing that solutions were already being created. "We still need to do a few things. If people need to urinate or defecate, it has to be done upstairs. You have to climb the ladder, and we need to dig a pit so that we can ensure that the feces don't attract bugs."

He saw a hesitant hand go up. A young woman, Stephanie Lane, held up her hand.

"Yes Ma'am," Mike responded.

She looked around, hesitantly, "Ah, I'm deathly afraid of heights. I don't know if I can get up the ladder."

Mike turned on the charm for her, "Well, ma'am, you're going to overcome those fears. Don't worry, though. Since we have security climbing up and down, we've already secured a safety line, with an ascender attached to it, so that we can buckle you in and make sure you don't fall off of the ladder. If you have problems, get somebody to climb with you. We have security climbing up to work in shifts." Stephanie's hands fluttered like small birds as she thanked Mike. Mike could still see that she had some concerns about the heights. Senior Airman Trevino put her hand out on Stephanie's arm and started talking to her. She seemed to calm down.

Mike continued, "So, we need to have some picks, shovels, hammers, saws, and nails fabricated. We have some building to do, so that we can ensure that everyone has privacy and we don't introduce disease into this facility."

Mike looked over at Hank, then at Jen. They both nodded their consent to his plan.

Mike looked over at Matki Awrani, who was devouring yet another MRE.

Mike asked the crowd, "We have some chemists here, right?"

It turned out that Michelle, Willow, Billy, Laura Roberts and Jim Wright were all chemists.

"Well, we're going to need your expertise. I don't know if you met Matki Awrani," Mike paused as Matki Awrani looked up to acknowledge the crowd when he heard his name, "but he's now our native guide. He knows this area like the back of his hand."

Mike thought to himself, "I hope."

"We're going to need him to tell us what's edible, and what's not. When he points out the food, I'm going to need you to tell me if it's actually edible for us." Understanding flooded the faces around him. "Some of the stuff that's safe for him to eat, may not be safe for us," Mike explained.

Pang spoke up, "Should he be eating that MRE?"

Mike shrugged his shoulders, "Honestly, it just hit me now, that there may be foods that aren't safe for us. When I offered him the MRE up top, I didn't even think that it could be poison to him." Pang and Mike looked at Matki Awrani. He noticed their interest in him and smiled at them. Dr. Ed voiced their thoughts, "Well, he's not dead yet."

Mike turned back to the crowd. "So, our predicament is this. We don't know what the hell is going on around here, but we have had several victorious engagements against some large and very mean predators. That's thanks to you, and the work you have done here on the mech armor. You are the reason that we are succeeding. And," pointing at Matki Awrani, "I think my friend there has indicated that there are going to be some more and possibly larger monstrosities like that dragon-dinosaur thing headed this way."

He paused to see if there were any more questions or concerns. There weren't, so he continued, "That in mind, I need for you folks to figure out a few things for us. Food, water, latrines, and defense against those monsters will be a good way to start. If we're going to survive this place, I need for you to work together. We all have to pull in the same direction, not in a hundred different ones. We need to make this place a little more livable than it currently is. This is the only place we currently have, and it's going to be home until we figure out something more permanent."

A man stood up in the back, "Well, you know about the library, right?"

Mike was confused, he never heard about a library in this facility. "What are you talking about, Mister . . . "

"McFarland, Bobby McFarland. And please, just call me Bobby. I'm talking about the data library that we have in the networ . . . "

He didn't get his sentence finished before Josh Weitz and Jessica Randall stood up and yelled at him to shut his mouth. Bobby's face grew red and he started walking over to Randall and Weitz. It was pretty obvious that he was about to punch somebody. Not that Mike wouldn't appreciate seeing Weitz or Randall stretched out on their butts, but this argument wasn't conducive to the atmosphere that Mike or Pang wanted to have during this meeting. Mike Crandall stood between them, and then more people pulled them apart. Once they were separated by a good ten feet, Mike walked into the middle.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked.

Bobby spoke up, "They don't want you to know."

Mike looked over at Randall, who was furious, her face turning alternate colors of red and purple. "Shut the hell up you idiot! He doesn't have the clearance to know those things."

Bobby yelled back at them, "What clearance. What does a security clearance have to do with anything now? We need to survive, you lunatic."

Weitz yelled at Bobby, "Shut up, shut up. You damn well know nothing! We only kept you around because we couldn't find anybody to work as cheaply as you do."

Bobby was furious now. "I'm a know nothing, an idiot? If it wasn't for me, you never would have figured out the A.I. to human interface system that allows the mech armor to integrate with the person driving it!"

Pang stepped in. "Everybody shut the hell up."

Randall wasn't having any of it, "Screw you, you little Army slut."

Pang's face went from controlled to furious in a millisecond. Evidently, she was as tired of Randall's bullshit as Mike was. Pang walked over and punched her. Randall was totally unprepared for that response. Mike didn't think that Randall would have been able to respond if she had known that Jennifer was going to punch her. Pang had three older brothers to toughen her up. Marines at that. Randall probably never had a physical confrontation in her life. Randall's nose blossomed into a red flower. Randall crumpled to her knees, blood flowing down the front of her blouse. Everybody backed away from Randall, not knowing what was going to happen next. Pang grabbed Randall's hair, pulled her head back and then jabbed her knuckle into the pressure point just below the ear, where the jaw met the skull.

"What was that you just said, you scrawny ass bitch? For your edification, I had several opportunities to bed any one of the men on that team, but I politely refused them all. What's the matter? Pissed that the only man you can find to bed in Montana, the land of the horny cowboy, is that jacked up Ditchem' Mitchem?

Mike tried to take the tension down. "Lieutenant Pang is telling you the truth. Pretty much the entire team was trying to get into her pants, but she shot them all down. They even had an objective name for the high value target, Objective Purple Rain."

One of the girls in the crowd looked at Mike, "The entire team?"

Mike colored red, "Ah, not me, I'm a happily married man with a new baby on the way."

Pang laughed and pulled away from Randall. Once Jen let go of Randall, she walked over to Weitz. The people around him scattered. "Do you have anything to add to the conversation?" Pang asked. Weitz looked like he was going to try intimidating the small woman, then Jen placed her hand on the pistol at her hip. Weitz paled, knowing he was on very shaky ground. People cleared out from behind him, not wanting to be in the line of fire. He noticed them clearing out, and he looked like he was going to throw up. Jen yelled in his face, "I asked you a question, and you better damn well answer." Weitz grew pale and shook his head in the negative, holding his hands up in the air, not wanting to give Pang any incentive to shoot him. Pang looked down at Randall. Randall was crying, trying to stop the bleeding.

Pang took her hand off of the pistol, "Now that I have your attention, there is now no such thing as a security clearance. It is now us verses whatever the hell wants to kill and eat us. If you have any information, or an idea, that you think might save some lives, bring it forward so that we can use it."

Mike turned to Bobby, "What did you want to tell us?"

Bobby hadn't been prepared for the intensity of the situation between Pang and Randall. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he started to talk, "We have it all."

Mike looked into his eyes, "All of what?"

"Well, everything. The Library of Congress, the patent office, DARPA, Apple, Microsoft, you name it. If it was digital, we have it."

Mike looked at Bobby, "How can you have everything that's digital? You would need hundreds of servers to hold all of that information."

Bobby looked back at him, "We went quantum, quantum computing. That's how we were able to figure out the quantum batteries, how to create graphene in large amounts and weave the strands of atoms into fabric. Our knowledge base about the basic questions in science started climbing exponentially after we went quantum. Then, we used the Prism program to copy the entire digital world that existed and put it into a cube on the third floor. We have the specs to everything that's ever been invented. We have all the research that was being done in the world. We just have to search for it across the digital spectrum."

Mike was stunned. It was true. Everything that he read about in magazines and online was completely true.

Pang spoke, "You mean everything that the USA invented or researched?"

Bobby shook his head, "No, I mean we have everything. We preserved the entire web. If it was in a phone, a cloud, a server, or an individual computer, we have it."

Everybody was stunned. The room was silent.

Bobby continued, "We were able to decrypt everything. It would have been another ten years before anybody was able to encrypt to keep us from cracking their servers. None of them knew that we cracked quantum computing. Now, our server has the records of all the tech that we used to dream of. All the chemical and physics research is in there. All the engineering is there. The only thing we didn't capture was the porn sites. But banking, engineering, science research, we have it."

Mike cleared his throat, wondering at the implications. "What about tech that foreign countries were working on?"

Bobby just nodded, "Yeah, everything. We have it all."

Mike looked at Bobby, trying to keep his mind from straying too much to thoughts of Area 51 in Nevada, "You can search all of this information?"

Bobby continued, "Yeah, the nice thing is that once we downloaded everything, it becomes static, and we can search everything. It's like taking a very big snapshot of what was on the web. It doesn't matter what they had on there. It's just a big model of what used to be a dynamic, interactive web. So, in theory, they didn't even know that we took the picture."

Mike just looked at him, stunned. Bobby looked back, kind of sheepishly. Mike turned to Randall and Weitz, "And you didn't want to share any of this information with us? Why?"

Randall spoke, venom in her voice, "Because it's my project. Everything in there was going to take me to the top of the D.C. pecking order. And then it was going to make me millions."

Mike just shook his head, "Lady, do you not understand that everything has changed. That's all gone now."

Randall crossed her arms and looked away. Mike wasn't going to let her off the hook. He walked over and crouched down in front of her. He put his hand on the side of her face and gently tried to make her look at him. When that didn't work, he grabbed her chin and made her look.

"I'm not making any of this up. If you don't believe me, climb to the top of the ladder, walk down the tunnel, look out the cave, and see for yourself. Hell, ask Weitz if you don't believe me. He's been up there." Bitterness and hatred were all he could see in her eyes. Mike shrugged, and then stood back up and walked over to the middle of the crowd.

"In fact, all of you need to come up and see the new world. And you'll have to. No pissing or crapping down here. If the call of nature hits you, climb up the ladder and do your business up there. I hope all of you'll sit down with me so that I can give you the grand tour, topside. I'll pull over the skull of the dragon-dinosaur, and the skulls of the big pack bears that tried to kill everything top side."

He turned back to Hank and Will. "We need shovels, picks, hammers, and any other tool that you think we might need. We're going to need wheel barrels, four wheeled carts, and earth movers. Let me know if you have enough materials to fabricate parts. If you don't, we may have to find some way to recycle what we can out of this facility. It has a lot of metal in it."

One of the fabricating team, Sherry, spoke up, "What do you mean? You mean we're going to leave this place?"

Mike looked around the crowd, "Look at this facility. There are already cracks developing around the walls because this building is tipped on its side. That means that the materials, concrete and metal, are taking stress that they aren't meant to handle. This entire facility may come crashing down, and I want to make sure that we have a place to move to before it does."

Nobody spoke, and the crowd seemed stunned at the news that they would have to move, so he continued, "We have to build another building. One that we can move our power supply into, with a level floor, and construction that can defeat any of the large beasts this world might throw at us. Like the largest monumental construction"

Luis was next to speak, "When you say monumental, what exactly do you mean?"

Mike smiled at him, "I'm talking construction like the pyramids, or the structure at Tiahuanaco. The dragon dinosaur lizard monster . . . "

Smith spoke, "Dragon, man, just call it a dragon. We know what you mean."

Mike conceded the point with a smile. He pointed at Matki Awrani, "Our friend here has indicated through a pidgin sign language, that the dragon we killed has larger relatives. And monumental type construction with large stone, maybe the only way we can keep these large beasts from killing us."

The crowd took everything in, talking amongst themselves. Some of the debate became heated, depending on who was talking.

Mike held up his hands again, and said, "Anymore questions? No? Okay, I'm going to head back topside, and make sure everything is okay there." There were no more questions, so Mike turned and started walking toward the elevator shaft. Matki Awrani appeared at his side. His ankle was wrapped, so he wasn't limping as bad as he had been. Matki Awrani was eating M&M candies from a small bag. He looked positively ecstatic. Lenny Reitch, one of the bio mechanical engineers, was with him.

"Ah, hey Lenny, where are you going?" Mike asked. Lenny pointed at Matki Awrani, "This man is what every anthropologist dreams of, a new culture to study."

"Yeah, he kind of fell into our encampment. There were two big uglies trying to eat him. He was lucky that we were there to save him."

Lenny smiled a wry smile, "No, Mike, he probably wouldn't have been in any trouble if we hadn't shown up."

Mike frowned, "What do you mean."

"Well, if you look at this gentleman, he's from this world, and probably quite skilled at hunting. He's probably quite aware of what animals he can hunt, and those animals that hunt him. It's probable that he got caught unaware of the threat that was in the area. And when I say threat, of course I mean us."

Lenny paused for breath, and Mike muttered "of course," to keep Lenny talking. Lenny continued as Matki Awrani wet his finger and ran it around the bag to pick up the stray slivers of chocolate.

"He probably didn't know that we were going to contest this area with the dragon that you and your team killed. How could he? I doubt he was aware that there was going to be the carcass of the dragon to draw other predators and scavengers into the area. So, he was probably surprised by all the dangerous animals that were drawn to the smell of raw meat."

Mike thought about it. Everything that Lenny had said made sense. Matki Awrani was probably trapped in the vicinity due to the actions of the team. Not that Mike would have changed anything in the way he did things. He still would have proceeded the way he did to ensure the safety of the team and the people inside the facility, "Possibly."

Lenny beamed at the cautious acceptance of his theory.

A voice spoke up behind them. It was Randall, "So your actions probably put this stranger in harm's way, just as your actions have endangered the lives of everybody else in this facility."

Mike barked a laugh, "You go ahead and believe whatever it is that makes you sleep better at night."

Lenny frowned, and Matki Awrani smacked his lips at the last bit of chocolate.

Randall spoke, "I'm going up to see for myself what you've alluded to. I think that you're lying to the rest of us." Her nose had stopped bleeding, but her blouse was covered in blood. No doubt she would talk to Mitchem about it.

Mike smiled without looking back, "What, you think I'm keeping you down here for no reason? That the world that you knew still exists up there?"

Randall's attitude was disparaging, "I think that for whatever reason, you've chosen to keep us trapped here so that you can uncover all of the secrets that we have and sell them to the highest bidder."

Mike thought about this as they reached the elevator shaft, "Ma'am, if you said that to me just two days ago, I would've been rather upset with you for denigrating my honor. I'm not a man that betrays my country by exposing its secrets to foreign or domestic enemies. Now however," He stepped into the elevator shaft, walked over to the ladder, and looked back at Dr. Randall, "I no longer have a country to defend, and could care less what you think."

Mike motioned for Matki Awrani to start climbing. Matki Awrani scrambled up the ladder like a monkey, despite his ankle. Mike called over Lenny and showed him how to use the ascender and harness to make sure he didn't misstep and fall down the shaft.

Randall looked up the ladder. Mike could see the fear in her eyes. Mike gently put his hand on her shoulder, feeling her flinch as he did, "How is your arm feeling? Do you think you'll have problems climbing?"

She stared at his hand until he removed it. "My arm is feeling much better, though it has a large bruise on it."

"Well, if you think you're going to have problems, tell me, and I'll help you get back down to the elevator."

She stared at him, and replied, coldly, "I don't think there will be any problems."

Mike spread his hands in placation, "As you wish. The ascender will keep you safe as long as you stay in the harness. You can't detach it without pulling the safety out. All you have to do is move it up with your hand as you climb. Make sure you maintain three points of contact on the ladder, two hands and one foot, or two feet and one hand as you climb. Make sure you climb, then move the ascender when you're stationary. If you do this, you'll be very safe. If you get tired, stop and rest. If you have a problem, I'll be right behind you. Don't worry, take your time."

Randall looked at Mike, suspicious, "Why are you helping me?"

Mike shrugged, "it's what I do. I honestly don't like you, Dr. Randall, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let anything happen to you."

Randall's eyes narrowed as she contemplated Mike's statement, and after a few moments, she nodded. Randall turned to grab the harness. Randall put on the harness, but she was wearing a skirt, so that made things interesting as she started tucking and poking things into place. She showed a little more leg than she cared to. She glanced at Mike, who was studiously looking everywhere but at her. She was happy that she was wearing flats today instead of her regular high heels. She got the harness in place and started climbing.

Mike waited, then started climbing when she was about ten feet up. He maintained her leisurely pace, which was much slower than he would have used, ensuring that he gave her plenty of distance. The last thing that he wanted this woman accusing him of being a pervert because he accidently rammed his head into her butt. He had enough problems already.

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Chapter Sixteen – Mayhem

Mike spent his downtime trying to keep his mind off of Jo. It was hard. Every moment of every day, he thought about her and the baby. Worry ate at him. He would think about her and tears would well into his eyes. He wiped the moisture away, hoping that nobody saw the tears. He couldn't afford to show weakness. They had to view him as an unemotional, capable leader. He knew, wherever Jo was, he couldn't help her right now and these people needed him. Still, he prayed constantly for her and the baby.

Matki Awrani's prediction came true all too soon. As the team stood guard they worked with the A.I. in their suits to identify threats. The mech A.I. identified anything that might meet the danger threshold. As the large herd animals came through, eating vegetation, the picture would flash to a secondary laptop that was monitored by Lenny Reitch, who was becoming fast friends with Matki Awrani. Every time a new creature came into view, Matki Awrani would look at the beast, and give a thumb's up or down, and the beast would be tagged accordingly. Now the A.I. was doing most of the threat analysis.

Rob was on duty when the first large threat showed up. The overhead view zoomed out on his display and blinked red painting the threat as it entered the valley. Rob turned on his radio and PA system for broadcast, "All personnel, this is not a drill, possible hostile incoming. I say again, possible hostile incoming."

As the threat moved, the A.I. showed a view of the valley floor with a green dot where the facility was located. There was a red square imposed around the body of the threat, with a kilometer countdown of how far away it was, currently tracking eighteen kilometers out.

Mike spoke next. He keyed his earbud, "All team personnel, all team personnel, move to mech and suit up. I say again, this is not a drill, all team personnel, move to mech and suit up."

Mike and his team sprinted to the mech armor. They swarmed up the sides of the armor and tucked their personal weapons into the storage area. The opaque helmets went on their heads, HUDs lighting so that they could see the display. The four hatches on the back of the mechs closed smoothly as the team suited up for battle.

Mike keyed his mike again, "Lieutenant Pang, are you there, over?"

Jondreau replied instead, "Mike, Lieutenant Pang is in her sleep cycle. What do you need? Over."

Mike responded, "Lieutenant Jondreau, I need your security team in the cave to back up my team. We have a hostile inbound. I need all security personnel to man weapons. Over."

Jondreau replied, "Roger Mike, I'm sending up reinforcements now. I'm going to wake up all personnel to ensure that the backups for security are in place."

Mike finished the conversation, "Roger, out."

Mike called for a team SITREP. Everett started the chorus of "Mech 2, Green, Green, Green," as ammunition, his physical condition, and systems status of the armor was relayed to Mike. This was repeated three more times as the rest of the team sounded off with the number of their armor and their status.

Mike finished with, "Roger team this is Mech 1, team leader, and I say Green, Green, Green, ready for deployment." It had been a long three days for everyone, filled with improving their living conditions. The team had practiced their quick reaction drills, firing up the mech armor. Then there had been combat drills for the team, combat drills for the security detachment, and combat drills for the techs, so that everyone knew what their duties and responsibilities were if a threat showed up.

There was now a team of two techs on standby in the cave at all times to ensure that the mech armor was in peak condition. They did preventive maintenance checks on the mechs daily. All of this was new ground for the techs. Mike and his team were used to it, subjected to it for their entire professional military careers. For every mission, they had pre-mission checks, mission checks, and post mission checks, as well as daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly preventive maintenance checks on their equipment.

At this point, failure was not an option. Failure meant that everybody in the facility would die. Everybody downstairs was now fully on board with Mike's leadership. Even Mitchem came around to his way of thinking, although Mike could tell that Mitchem still hated his guts.

Mitchem lost authority after his precipitous departure from the battle with the bear pack, something that Matki Awrani called talgit. The security team passed that story, plus the nickname, Ditchem Mitchem, around to everybody in the facility. There were a lot of military veterans, many of them combat vets, and their attitude about Mitchem leaving the security team to fend for themselves percolated through the rest of the tech, security, and administration teams. Murph, the lead security sergeant, was pretty vocal about his opinion of Jamison and Mitchem after the big battle with the talgit. Jondreau cautioned Murph about his disrespect, but finally gave up as he noticed the shift in attitude among the civilians and airmen around him.

Jamison had a full-on break with reality. It happened right after the attack by the pack of bears. Mike couldn't stay upset with the guy. There was definitely something physically wrong with him. He was found lying in a hallway up on the first floor and was having major problems with his motor skills. His body seemed to be failing him.

Major Nosstrand and Dr. Humphreys were taking care of him, but they couldn't diagnose his condition. Jamison was on one of the cots in the play room. Periodically he would start yelling, and then they would give him some meds to knock him out. The doctors didn't know if it was physiological or psychological. They were beginning to lean toward physiological. They thought he might have had a stroke.

Mike focused back on the task at hand and tracked the threat. The beast was not heading directly toward them, but that didn't decrease Mike's anxiety, however.

"What do you think?" Everett asked.

"It's just one threat, and as long as it remains just one threat, I don't think we'll have a problem," Mike replied. "I was able to stop one of them with just one set of mech armor, so I don't anticipate too much of a problem stopping this one."

Mickey spoke, "don't jinx us boss. If you say something like that, you're just pissing off Murphy." Mickey meant Murphy, of Murphy's Law, not Murphy, security.

Sure enough, right after Mickey said that about Murphy, their head's-up displays started blinking red again as two more hostile squares appeared on the map of the valley.

The entire team started cursing.

Everett poked fun at Mike, "Jesus Mike, what were you thinking? You went and pissed off Murphy."

Every soldier was a little bit superstitious. The team realized that eventually, they would probably have to contend with multiple targets. They felt it was inevitable. They were fully prepared for this scenario. They had been practicing for such an eventuality, and they felt comfortable with their mechs. The AIs in the suit were becoming more focused and allowed the team to do things in their mechs that would have been impossible just five days ago. Mickey had been doing karate katas to explore the range of movement. Mike and his team had been practicing gymnastic moves such as barrel rolls as well, anything that might fine tune their control of the mechs.

The hostiles moved closer to the facility.

Mike gave the orders, "Okay, team, light up your camouflage."

The camouflage capability was a wonder to Mike, and it would have been totally impossible without the AI, the quantum computer, and the carbon fiber electronics cables that the mech electrical system was wired with. The entire mech was dotted with camera lenses. This allowed three things. First was the head's up display that showed everything in the area around the mech, to give the men in the mech three hundred and sixty degrees of situational awareness. They could see everything around them, up and down. Second, the full body construction, with no windows to weaken the integrity of the armor, ensured the mech possessed no weak points that could be exploited. No windows meant a stray shot couldn't compromise the integrity of the armor. No windows meant a laser couldn't penetrate to kill or blind the soldier inside. Third, and this was the thing that Mike thought was amazing, was that it allowed the mech armor to display an adaptive pattern of camouflage on its exterior.

The cameras filmed the area around it, and the armor, with the help of an adaptive electric capability, using pixels on the body of the armor, was able to display the area directly behind the armor onto the skin. While not completely perfect when the suit was moving, it allowed a near perfect camouflage when the suit was motionless.

As the camouflage engaged, to the security team and civilians in the cave, it looked as if the mech armor had just disappeared. Joseph and Stein were standing close to each other, and they both muttered, "Awesome," at the same time. Other members of the security team laughed when they heard them say it in unison.

Mike and his team fanned out in a defensive perimeter. As they moved, the mech camouflage distorted until it moved back into a stationary position. Then the hard part began. They waited.

The hostiles were identified as dragons. The first hostile target wandered around the valley. It was not moving directly toward the cave, but over time, it drifted closer to their location. The other hostiles were moving with more intent. Each of the secondary hostiles seemed to be moving toward the first target, but they were being wary toward each other. The secondary targets seemed to be testing each other out.

Tom spoke up, "Gents, I think I know what is going on with these critters."

Mike asked, "What's that, Tom."

"Remember, this is just a theory, but I think the first one is a female, and the other two are males. You notice that the secondary hostiles seem to be moving around each other, but they're both definitely moving toward the first target."

"Yeah, I see that."

"I've seen the same kind of thing among rutting males during deer season."

"Okay Tom, any pattern to the movement of the first hostile?"

"Yeah, I think she's smelling the areas that the previous owner of this valley spent time in, finding the scent patches, and trying to figure out the threat."

Mike relied on Tom's instincts. He was the master hunter.

Rob spoke up, "Tom, are you sure that's a theory? Sounds more like a hypothesis to me."

Even in the face of danger, Mike's crew couldn't resist ribbing each other.

"Team Mech leader, this is Security Leader Actual, over."

Actual meant that it was Pang talking, the leader of the security team. Mike had placed Pang in charge of Security. Jondreau wasn't too happy about this, but Mike trusted Jen a lot more than he trusted Jondreau. Plus, after the encounters with the bears and the dragon, the security team was more than willing to follow her orders.

"Roger, Sec leader, this is Mech leader, over."

"Mike, the security team is in place."

The security team had pulled two SAWs, Squad Automatic Weapons, out of storage. These weapons were previously only used when the security police traveled out to the range. Now they were employed at the edges of the cave mouth to ensure that nothing slipped past the mech team. There were no more weapons that were locked away. Everybody that could be trusted with a weapon had a weapon, to include the civilians. Still, Mike wished they had something with a larger caliber. The SAWs shot 5.56mm bullets. He would have preferred the M240B in 7.62mm, or the Browning M2 in .50 caliber. Hell, even the old M60 in 7.62mm would have been great. But beggars can't be choosers. The SAWs would have to do.

The first hostile was moving closer. It was now within 2 kilometers of the cave mouth. The secondary hostiles moved within a kilometer of the first hostile, though they were still being wary of each other.

It had been three days since the first dragon was killed. Since that time, the carcasses had been plundered of all meat available. There was nothing there that would attract the notice of a predator now. This included the carcasses of the grasnigs, and the talgits. The team pulled the carcasses further away from the cave mouth once they'd understood how big the scavengers in this new world were. The average size of the scavengers had plummeted with the decrease in available raw flesh. They kept the skulls of the big beasts though. Bragging rights were bragging rights, no matter what world they were in.

Now, Mike wasn't worried about the smell of rotting meat pulling the animals toward them. There was one problem, though. The people that Mike and his team were protecting had to defecate and urinate. That was a powerful smell for any animal, indicating that there was potentially a large presence of prey animals for them to target.

The first hostile was now within a kilometer of the cave, and the two other targets were still trailing her, both within a kilometer of her position. Mike transmitted over the radio, "All security teams, be alert, the hostiles are within a kilometer. Mech team, I want a wedge formation."

The problem that soldiers faced in combat was fields of fire. Everybody had their own field of fire, and they had to stick to this to ensure that they didn't accidently engage members of their own team. In infantry practice, a team of five men would move into a v shape, called a wedge, point toward the enemy, with the leader of the team at the point of the v. This shape ensured that the team didn't accidently shoot each other and ensured the maximum amount of fire power that they could inflict on the hostiles. At least in theory. Friendly fire wasn't too friendly.

What Mike, his team, and the security team didn't know, was that a large group of people were watching the potential engagement down in the play room. They had relocated a large screen TV from the offices on the second floor, hooked up the drone feed, and now they watched the drone and armor feeds. They could see everything that was transpiring. Below the screen was information on the A.I. and the various systems that kept the mech armor going. The screen zoomed in as the threats came closer to the friendlies.

Dr. Randall was in charge of this. She wanted to ensure that the mech armor was functioning within all of the engineered tolerances. She and her team would go back later and analyze all of the data to ensure peak performance. After her visit to the surface, she was more willing to work with the team.

Mike still didn't trust her, though.

The hostile that had been labeled as target one, possibly a female dragon, stopped at the edge of the clearing. She smelled the fragrance of death, of prey animals, and the scent of her old rival. She knew that her rival was dead due to a miasma of scents that lingered from previous carnage and the blood trail that had been left when the corpse had been hauled outside. She looked out on the meadow. She could see movement inside the cave. Prey was present, and soon she would eat. She screamed a hunting call. The coughing scream silenced everything in the valley.

Tom was looking at his head's up display when he stated, excitedly, "Holy hell, did everybody see that?"

Mike took his eyes off of the edge of the meadow, trying to see what Tom was talking about. The secondary figures were moving differently now. They were no longer maintaining a triangle figure based on the female in front of them. Now they moved forward, one on the left side of the possible female, and the other to the right.

"Roger Tom, I think they're putting aside their differences to hunt."

Mike could feel his emotions cool, his focus intensify. His body knew it was going into combat and was preparing for that action. The rest of the team reacted in pretty much the same way. This team was special and the reason was, when the rubber met the road, the team didn't get hyped up on adrenaline. Instead, they become cool as ice, focused on the mission in front of them. Now, with the hostile animals so much closer to the cave mouth, the A.I. displayed information about the size and approximate weight of the beasts. Mike took it all in at a glance, but it was causing consternation in the room below.

"Damn, look at the size of the first one. It's about six tons of dragon." More of the voices started talking as the other threat information was displayed. People were amazed at the size of these animals. In the secondary threats, the possible males, one was eleven tons, and the other was twelve tons, approximately.

The female felt the presence of the two males. She had been aware of them the entire time that she was moving across the valley floor. She was waiting for them to challenge, to kill or maim each other. Once the battle was over, she would challenge the males, to kill them if they were weak. She was not the largest female, but she, like the rest of the females in her species, would not suffer an inferior male to impregnate her.

With the bellow of the hunting call, she was no longer interested in killing them, but instead, her focus was on the prey in front of her. She waited as their posture changed from rutting, to hunting. The males were intrigued by her proposition. They moved up to smell the death in the meadow. They smelled prey that was not familiar to them. This excited them almost as much as the idea of battle with each other and the mating with the female would have produced. As the males tasted the flavor of the air on their tongues, their curiosity overcame their other instincts.

As vicious as they were to each other, the prospect of hunting and feasting overcame their previous instincts. They would feed first and then challenge each other after the hunt. One male roared his hunting call and then the other did so, both calls echoing through the valley. This communicated to the female that they were willing to hunt with her. She added her voice to the cacophony, and then all three moved forward, out of the tree cover, slouching forward into a hunter's stalk.

Mike watched all three. Mike gave another order, "All teams, weapons hot, I say again, weapons are now hot."

All weapons systems were ready to fire at that moment.

"Sniper, are you ready?"

"Roger, I'm ready."

The sniper in question was a civilian. Joe Oaks was a hunter, and a damn good shot. He volunteered to work with the security police, or, as he put it, "not sit around on my ass while other people are doing their damned best to protect it."

When the team talked to him, they found out that he was the civilian version of Tom, a guy that went hunting as much as he possibly could. He rattled off ballistic statistics to Tom, then walked him through several different weapons systems. Tom was impressed, so he put Joe on the .338 Lapua. They hadn't had time to get somebody ready on the BMG .50 caliber. They moved that weapon into the cave tunnel to be used as a last resort in case something tried to slither through. It would be very hard to miss at the point-blank range in the tunnel.

Plus, there was a lot more .338 ammunition than there was .50 caliber.

"Okay, Joe, you see the smaller animal in the middle?"

"Yes, I do."

"I want you to shoot it. Try for the chest or the shoulder, but if you can't get those, then take a head shot."

Joe lined up the shot, and then pulled the trigger.

Because of her stance, he couldn't get a good shot at the chest or shoulders, so he aimed for the eye. She jerked at the last moment, and the shot went above the eye, creasing the top of the head.

"Roger, shot out."

This short sentence was drowned out by the bellow she unleased, rage surging through the monster. She felt the impact of the bullet and pain seared through her head. The shot itself was deflected by the thickness of her skull. Still, the impact ripped skin and cracked bone. Her hunting companions smelled the blood in the air and felt her rage. The short stalk was finished. She leaped forward to kill the thing in the cave that hurt her, and the males leaped forward to join her.

Mike gave the order to the teams, "All mech and sec teams, you're free to engage."

The burr of high speed projectiles announced their launch from the rail guns. They hit the three animals like a chainsaw, although the tough hide was hard to penetrate. These animals, even with the advanced capabilities of the mech armor, were difficult to kill.

Mike called out, "I'm taking the small one in the middle, Mech two and four take the one on the right, Mech three and five take the one on the left."

Mike's A.I. painted the smaller dragon as his primary target in red, and the secondary targets in orange. Reality blurred as Mike slammed into the body of the dragon closing in on his position. The beast howled as the hard ridge of the cutting ridge on the gauntlets slammed into her body. She didn't understand what was happening, completely surprised by the attack, her assailant invisible to her. Mike activated his pulse laser, cutting into flesh. Gore dripped and splattered across the mech. He could feel small arms fire plinking around his armor as the security team tried to aid him.

The dragon twisted her body, and Mike felt his armor lifted from the ground, rotating around her body, and then slamming into the ground on his back. He felt the protective foam collapse and re-inflate as it took the majority of the impact energy and dissipated it. He was underneath the dragon as she hammered him down with her paws and mouth. He punched from underneath, trying to cause as much damage as possible to what could be a softer underbelly. His pulse laser cycled as he tried to cut into flesh.

He felt his world shift again as she laid over to use her back legs to rake his mech armor. When this didn't bring the results that she hoped for, she rolled until he was on top, then set her legs against his armor, and kicked him into the air, away from her. His mech armor slammed against something and then he landed on the ground, the foam cushioning his impact once again.

He rolled to his feet, whatever he landed against moving away from him. He found his target circling him, about to launch into him again. Since she was a good hundred feet away, so Mike triggered his rail gun and the projectiles cut into her front leg, spoiling the jump. He was able to side step and punch out with his hands, driving them into her shoulder. He grabbed a handful of the writhing tentacles and used them to launch onto her back. As he gained the back of the dragon, he aimed his laser at the base of her neck. The movement of her body underneath him spoiled his aim, and he only succeeded in cutting off tentacles.

She rolled again, trying to dislodge him, and she succeeded, though he was able to retain his hold on the tentacles. Gravity slammed him back up against the damaged leg. He tore into it. The hide along the leg was ripped and bloodied from the damage he had inflicted, so he rammed his arm against the leg, and then shot the elbow of the leg with his rail gun. The elbow collapsed.

He followed the body of the female to the ground. He used his grip on her tentacles to position himself so he could pound her face with the gauntlet. The gauntlet pounded continuously until he felt the orbit of the eye socket collapse. The dragon screamed in pain, rearing up and shaking her head, tossing him away from her. His armor sped toward the ground. He tucked and rolled the armor, his A.I. helping to move through the maneuver, coming back on his feet as he prepared to hit her again.

Then he heard the warning, far too late. The huge paw of one of the heavier males hit him and sent him tumbling across the ground. As he righted himself, he could see the big male launch on top of him. The male grabbed the arm of the mech armor and started shaking Mike's mech like a rag doll. If Mike had been in metal armor, this wouldn't have been possible. Since the armor he was in was mostly graphene and titanium, it was much lighter. Still, while it was light, it was also amazingly strong. The armor didn't crack or crumple. The engineers had designed well.

The big beast didn't realize the mistake it had made. Mike's rail gun was inside the large male dragon's mouth. He triggered the rail gun. The side of the dragon's mouth exploded as the rail gun ripped into it. Gore dripped from the side of the dragon's head. He grabbed a handful of the tentacles and used that leverage to shift his rail gun deeper into the beast's throat. As the beast choked on his hand, he triggered the rail gun again. The projectiles tore through the beast into the back of the neck, into the chest cavity, causing maximum destruction.

A torrent of blood dripped, and then gushed out of the mouth of the great beast, and it collapsed. "Must have cut its spinal column," Mike thought. Mike pulled his hand out of the great dragon's mouth and stood up. He looked around for his original target and saw it lying, unmoving on the meadow, twitching as it died.

The final hostile was fatally damaged. Its spine was broken. It had been clawed from head to toe by small arms fire, pulse lasers, and rail guns. There was no give in it, though. The desire to kill was so deeply rooted that it tried to pull itself toward its foe to rend and destroy. Mike watched as his team moved forward and, saving ammunition, hacked it apart with pulse lasers. A final quiver and it went still.

Mike walked over to the female on the ground. He noticed the rapid shallow breaths. He assumed it was in shock. It didn't seem to be able to move anymore, so he walked around to the eye of the dragon, which was open. The great beast tracked him with the one good eye. He saw the hate in its soul. He triggered his pulse laser, piercing the brain of the beast. The breathing stopped.

He stood up, "ACE report. Over."

His team reported in, green across the board.

Then he called Pang, "Lieutenant Pang, ACE report, over."

She replied, "Green across the board, they didn't even come close to us." Pang looked at the team. They were no longer camouflaged. They looked like the denizens of some demonic charnel house, covered in gore, dripping blood across the grass and sand of the churned-up meadow, gods of slaughter and death.

The valley map expanded across Mike's vision again, the boarders flashing red. Another hostile was on the way.

\--------------------------------------

Lenny talked to Matki Awrani using the A.I. software. He had been working long hours to create a programmable A.I. that would learn Matki Awrani's language. Matki Awrani was no fool. He quickly figured out that Lenny was trying to do and did everything he could do to help. Matki Awrani was taken aback the first time that he heard Lenny say something and then heard the computer say a phrase in his own language. As for Lenny, he was delighted to see how the A.I. was beginning to respond to the new program. It learned very quickly and was able to access much of the stored internet translation programs to learn how different languages worked and intersected from old Earth. It was able to use these programs to create a new algorithm to understand Matki Awrani's language, and then translate it into English, and from English back into Matki Awrani's language. With this comprehension, Lenny was able to understand one thing about the hostile dragons that just tried to kill everybody.

"She's in heat," Lenny conveyed this to the Mike and his team.

"Damn it, can't we get a break here?" Rob complained.

Mickey retorted, "That's not going to happen, evidently Mike really pissed off Murphy."

Mike replied, "Not my fault, I blame it all on Everett."

"How the hell is it my fault?"

"You asked the question, I answered it. If you hadn't asked the question, then I wouldn't have answered. Then I wouldn't have pissed off Murphy. Ergo, your fault."

"Oh, I have to call B.S. on that, Mike."

"Of course, you're going to call B.S., because you know it's your fault, therefore, you want to blame me."

"It's not my fault. You're the one that made the inference that we would be okay if nothing else showed up." Another red hostile was indicated on the map as soon as the words escaped Everett's mouth.

"See, you did it again. So, your fault."

Mike made a decision, "Okay guys, before they get here let's drag these carcasses out of the way. Pull them to the edge of the tree line so that we keep our dojo open for combat."

The team followed Mike's lead and started dragging each carcass back to the tree line.

Downstairs, as the group watched, somebody said, "Jeez, they sound like an old, married couple."

Major Nosstrand and Dr. Humpreys found it fascinating. They were looking at the physical readouts of the soldiers as they were bickering about who was at fault. The banter back and forth among the team was actually reducing their stress levels. The more they bantered, the lower their physical stress became.

Dr. Humphreys said, "God, I wish I was able to do a dissertation on this."

Major Nosstrand laughed, "What would you call it? The 'Jackie Gleason and Art Carney effect on combat stress levels?'"

Dr. Humphreys smiled, "You better watch it, Major Nosstrand. That show is from my era. These kids around here will start to call you," he paused for dramatic effect, "old."

Her eyes twinkled, "I'll just tell them I watched it on TV land."

Dr. Humphreys looked back at the physical readouts, "Still, I wish we had time to get some blood samples so that I could check cortisol levels."

In the meadow, the team prepped for the two new hostiles. This time, the camouflage wouldn't be as useful as it was previously. The mechs were covered with gore and no amount of camouflage would be able to hide them.

The beasts were using the same strategy that the previous males used, though one of the males seemed to be more aggressive.

"Man, would you look at the stats on that one. Forty feet long and sixteen tons of meat and gristle."

"Yeah, bigger than the previous ones. Still, the second hostile seems to be about the same size as the other two."

Mike painted the larger one as target one, and the smaller one as target two.

"Alright, mechs two and four on me. We're now team one, and we'll engage the larger of the two hostiles. Mechs three and five, you're now on the secondary target. Please reply that you understand."

Four replies indicated that they understood the order.

Downstairs, the people watched as the next battle was about to occur, keeping up a running patter as they watched the team prep.

"Man, after that last fight, I'd figure they'd want to get the hell out of here."

"Be glad they aren't hightailing it out. If they did, we'd all be snacks for those dragons."

"Dude, did you see when Mike jumped on top of that small one and rode it like it was a bucking bronco. Man, that takes some major cojones."

"I thought the part where Mickey slammed into the Dragon and brought it to a dead stop was crazy."

"What I find amazing is that our security team is up there ready to fight if these things get through. They don't have any mech armor. Seems to me that takes more guts than being inside the mechs. Mike and his team are impervious to the physical danger. If Pang and her team have to mix it up, they're hosed."

"Yeah, Pang and Jondreau have some big huevos to back up the mech team. Of course, Pang was one of the few people that helped to kill the first one that was going to carve us up."

In the valley, the pattern of the two dragons changed. They stopped, and then Mike could hear the hunting cry of a dragon. He didn't know which it was, but his money was on the big one.

"Alright, we have incoming hostiles. Let's go ahead and get back into wedge formation. Sniper, Over."

"Roger, this is sniper. Over."

"This time, don't wait for me to tell you, just shoot one of them. The big one if you can. I'd like to slow him down before we engage. Hopefully the three of us can get him down and then help with junior. Over."

"Roger, I'll engage as soon as I see him. Over."

"Sniper, this is Mech team leader. Over."

"Mech team leader, this is Sniper. Over."

"Great kid. Don't get cocky."

"Mech team leader, this is Sniper. Err, what?"

Mike and his team cracked up. "Sniper, this is Mech team leader. Sorry. Just kidding you. We need to break out some movies when this is over, then you'll understand what I'm talking about."

"Mech team leader, Roger."

Rob started talking, "In a galax . . . "

"Whoops, sorry Rob, I hate to interrupt, but the big guy and junior are coming in pretty quick. We need to get ready."

Once again, the five mech armor suits were standing in line so that they could engage the different hostiles. They didn't have long to wait. The large male was the first to emerge from the tree line. Then the smaller male broke through the line of vegetation. The bodies of both males were slightly hidden behind the carcasses of the other three dragons.

The large male moved forward to smell the carcass of one of the dead males, and then sniffed the dead female.

He lifted his head and roared. The second male answered him with a hunting scream. Both of the males started pawing the ground, in anticipation of the kill.

"Sniper, do you have a target?

"That is a negative, mech leader. Can you shift position? Maybe they'll move so that I can get a shot."

"Roger sniper, your bait is moving."

In the cave, Oaks started sweating, "Jeez, I didn't mean it like that."

Pang was crouched right beside him. She was there so that he didn't tunnel vision on the main threat and get compromised if another threat suddenly appeared.

"Don't worry, that's just Mike's way of dealing with stress."

Mike moved to the left, using the big dragon as a pivot. He didn't get any closer. He and his team shifted as one unit. He looked at the enormous bulk of the beast. It watched him, but it didn't move. Mike could see on the display that junior was shifting position as the other team moved.

"Sniper, I think you're going to have to engage the smaller one. The big one is cannier than the others before him."

"Roger, I have the small one sighted. Give me more movement, and I think I have a shot."

Everett was the team leader for the second mech team, "Roger, we'll move around and see if we can't pull him out so you can take the shot."

Mike spoke next, "If you can't get a shot into the joints, put some lead into the body and see if you can do some damage."

"Roger."

A few seconds seemed like an eternity, and then the shot rang out. Mike could see dust fly off the hide of the smaller dragon as the bullet hit. The smaller dragon stood straight up and bellowed a challenge, then jumped over the carcass in front of it to attack Everett and Tom.

Mike looked forward at the big beast. It wasn't moving. It watched to see what was happening.

As chaos engulfed the other team, Mike had a thought, "In for a penny, in for a pound."

"Rob, Mickey, you two move around to the left, I'm going to move to the right. I'm going to start moving straight for the creature. Maybe it will take me as bait."

The team started forward. Mike could tell that they were getting well past the big dragon's comfort zone. Its tail was twitching furiously as he watched them come closer. As Mike separated more from Mickey and Rob, he could tell that the dragon was getting more anxious, probably unused to being contested this way.

The great beast could take no more. It wasn't used to having prey confront him like this. He bellowed a challenge and leaped, running forward toward Mike. Mike rolled as the great dragon tried to take him down. Mike didn't escape the full force of the blow, however. The extended claw glanced against the armor, driving Mike off balance. Mike took the armor into a shoulder roll and then came back up to engage the dragon.

Rob hit the side of the dragon running and slammed his fist into the beast to cut the tough hide, hoping to get his pulse laser or rail gun inside to vital organs. Mickey tried to take out the beast's mobility by concentrating his pulse laser and rail gun on one of the back legs. Mike decided to play the option he knew best and went for the head as it whipped toward him.

The dragon drove Mike down to the ground and started biting. The speed of the monster surprised Mike. It wrapped both arms around Mike and chewed on the mech, seeking vitals to rend, not knowing that the mech wasn't alive. It was startled when the bite didn't break the armor. Mike grabbed a handful of the nest of wildly whipping tentacles around the neck and slammed his gauntlet blades against the side of the head. As he slammed his hand in, he triggered the pulse laser, which sliced into the neck. Blood and fluids flashed into steam as the laser cut and cauterized the deep wound. The pain drove a bellowing cry of agony from the great dragon. The beast stood straight up and came crashing back down directly on top of Mike. Mike's mech slammed into the ground, causing his head to bounce around. His helmet pinged against the armor from side to side.

" _Thank God for helmets,"_ he thought. Without the helmet, even inside the mech, he would have had a concussion. The beast had him on the ground and both giant paws bore down on the shoulders of the mech armor. Mike had no leverage, he was pinned. The dragon repeatedly bit down on the armor. The pressure of the dragon's jaws was no match for the mech armor, though.

Mike couldn't see it happening, but he knew his team was killing the beast as it attempted to rend him to pieces. In his position, Mike couldn't do much without leverage, the entire weight of the beast on top of him. He could only do one thing; he aimed his pulse laser and rail gun up into the vitals of the beast. As the beast slammed its weight into him, he triggered both weapons. Both the pulse laser and the rail gun projectiles impacted and cut into the chest and neck, gobbets of flesh, bone, and blood exploding from the wounds.

The dragon's rage grew as its efforts to kill the mech did no damage. Pain ravaged its body, driving its fury. The mech armor wouldn't bleed, wouldn't shatter, wouldn't die, no matter how many times the dragon bit it, no matter how many times he clawed it, no matter how many times he slammed his full weight down on top of it. It would not die.

Still, the dragon tried to kill, frustration increasing as the pain mounted. The damage was too great to continue. Even as it died, the great dragon raised its head to heaven and roared its defiance. The ground shuddered as the legs failed, and the body slammed into the ground. Right on top of Mike. Mike heard the network erupt as the great beast died.

"Christ, where's Mike?"

"I don't know, last I saw, it was slamming him into the ground, trying to crack him like an egg."

"Yeah, but where is he now?"

Mike replied, "I'm down here."

"Down where."

"Underneath it. It fell on top of me."

"Underneath?"

"Yeah, Underneath."

"What, you decided to take a nap?"

Mickey was enjoying this. Rob jumped into the exchange.

"Mike, if you're tired, we can get you a cot. You don't have to sleep in your mech armor. I mean, I know the foam is pretty comfortable."

Mike replied, "Wow, you're two funny guys. Maybe you should take your standup on the road. Hey, here's a question. What about the other dragon? You think maybe Everett and Tom might need some help?"

Everett spoke, "No, Mike, while you were taking your nap, we were taking care of business. Junior is down and done."

"So, since every hostile up there is dead, you guys think you might stop the comedy routine and roll this big bastard off of my mech so I can stand up?"

"Well, Mike, you have to understand, this type of situation doesn't come along every day. So, we do need to savor the moment."

"When you're done savoring, you might want to get me out of here. Not for my sake, God knows. But we might want the techs to take a look at the mech armor before another wave of these things hits."

"Weellll, yeah, I guess you're right."

Another voice clicked on. It was Bob, "Don't worry boys, we have everything saved on video. You can watch and re-watch to your heart's desire."

"Thanks Bob, you're a great help," Mike replied. "Comedians, surrounded by comedians," he thought.

The team got busy. It didn't take them too long. Another twenty minutes and Mike was freed from his prison. Any longer and he would have tunneled out through the dragon.

\--------------------------------------

### Chapter Seventeen – The New Reality

There were no more hostiles inbound. They sat in the mechs for a good hour, watching for inbounds. Mike felt that the situation had cooled down, and with no more hostiles around, Mike started rotating the team out to get something to eat, drink, to stretch, or to hit the latrine. Another two hours and they were back down to their lowest security stance, with Mickey on watch in his mech.

Mike felt the situation had improved. They'd proved the mechs against five large predators. The security team was much friendlier now. Days of interacting with Mike and the team had brought the groups together. Now they understood they had the same mission, to protect each other, and the engineers below. As Mike and his team sat down among the security police and other Air Force personnel that were now on the security team, he could feel how the attitudes had shifted. He and his team were now accepted. Stories were told and retold as the afternoon wore on.

Lenny and Matki Awrani came to talk to Mike. Mike was eating, and Matki Awrani eyed the MRE covetously. Mike fished out a muffin top and tossed it to him. Matki Awrani's eyes lit up as the package flew through the air toward him. He snatched it out of the air and started to open it. His eyes rolled in pleasure as he saw the chocolate chip muffin top. Mike motioned for them to have a seat with him.

"Hey Mike, how are you?"

"Pretty good Lenny. How are you and M.A. doing?"

Matki Awrani was busy inhaling the muffin top, a look of rapture on his face.

"He has some more information about the dragons."

"Really? That translation software of yours must be working pretty good."

Lenny nodded, "Yeah, it's almost scary how well the A.I. is working in the translation program."

Mike considered this, nodding, "I know what you mean. The A.I. in my mech armor is getting so good that I don't even realize that it's there. Every now and then, though, a display or icon will light up a split second before I realize that I triggered it." Mike took a bite of lasagna, "So, what's up with the dragon situation?"

Lenny threw a rock at one of the stalactites on the cave floor, "Well, it's not good news."

Mike laughed, "I didn't think it would be."

"It's not going to stop."

"What's not going to stop?"

"The dragons. They'll keep on coming until one of them finally claims this location. It's their way."

"Their way, huh? Maybe we can change their ways."

"I don't think that's possible. M.A. says that there has always been a dragon in this valley. When one dies, another replaces it. Sometimes the one replacing it hastens the dying process. That's what they do."

Mike mulled this over. He wanted a place that they could use as a base. From what Lenny was telling him, that was going to be impossible in this location.

"And, it gets worse."

"Good Lord, Lenny, you're just the bearer of bad tidings today."

Lenny looked glum. Mike saw the look on Lenny's face. He softened his voice, "Hey, Lenny, don't worry about it. I'm just kidding you. I'd rather you tell me the good news and the bad news. I need both, so that I can make good decisions. Bad news doesn't get any better with time. It stinks worse, like road kill in the sun."

Lenny nodded, the look on his face lightened a small bit. "Mike, you know those dead dragons in their eggs, in the shaft. The ones we had to drag out with the mother?"

"Yeah, that was a big mess."

"Well, it turns out that was a blessing in disguise."

"Mmmm, and why is that?"

"Well, think about the size of those things. They were the size of large pit bulls, and M.A. tells that they get bigger than that before they're born."

"Yeah, but they're all dead."

"Well, these are."

Mike put his head down into his hands, then ran his hands through his hair.

"Let me guess, there are other females with other broods."

"Yeah, there are. Probably not around here, because we just killed two females. One that had a brood about to hatch, and another that was going into estrus. When the brood hatches, the dragon spawn gang up into packs, and go hunting, until they get much larger and can't stand to be around each other."

"You're telling me that we're going to be dealing with not only the big ones, but the little ones as well."

"Yeah, that's about it."

Mike thanked him for the information, and watched the two of them walk outside, where M.A. started naming different types of plants. Mike mulled over the new information. He couldn't imagine fifty or sixty of those dragon spawn. There wouldn't be anywhere to hide in the facility. They'd be able to hunt everybody down. Mike shook his head. He stood up, walked out to the tech team working on his mech. The rest of Mike's day was spent doing maintenance on the mech armor, to make sure that it was ready for more hard usage.

\--------------------------------------

He dreamed of a lazy Saturday. Before they got the pups, when they had just started trying for a baby. He was lying in bed and Jo was sleeping on his chest. He was looking up at the ceiling, watching the patterns of light as the sun crept through the blinds and the shadows of the ceiling fan as it moved. It was a sweet day. Any day he had with Jo was an amazing day. He looked at her beautiful face, her breath tickling the hairs on his chest.

He stretched, and she shifted as he moved. When she slept, Jo would hold her hands together, like she was praying. As he moved, one of her hands slipped across his chest and then stopped on his stomach. He leaned his head forward so that he could inhale the clean smell of her hair. He breathed in deep, enjoying the aroma. He kissed the top of her head. Her hand shifted across his stomach, to the other side of his body, and her body snuggled in closer to his. His skin warmed as more of her body came into contact with it.

He kissed her again, on top of her head. She shifted so that he could kiss her forehead. He twisted his body so that he was facing her. She moved her arm under his body as he slipped his other arm around her. She tilted her head so that they could kiss. The kisses started small, slow. Jo started exploring his body with her hands and he explored hers. He loved her lean, muscular body. Yoga was such a wonderful thing. The kisses grew in length as they explored. The kisses became long, deep and languid.

Jo whispered his name, "Mike."

He kept kissing her.

"Mike, hey Mike."

Mike woke up. He was dazed as he looked around. Finally, he recognized his surroundings. The cot that he was on creaked as he shifted his weight. He let the air out of his lungs in a grunt.

"Hey buddy, are you okay?"

Mike opened his eyes and looked at the smiling face of Rob Torres.

"Hey Mike, you were groaning in your sleep. I was worried about you."

Mike waved Rob off, "Yeah, don't worry, I'm okay. No problems. It wasn't nightmares, it was memories."

Everett walked over, "Hey, everything okay?

Mike nodded, "Yeah, just dreaming about Jo."

Mike looked up to see a worried look on Everett's face. Mike knew that Everett was looking out for him, concerned about more than just Mike's physical wellbeing. This was the first time Mike had mentioned Jo since the incident. There was a lot to worry about. Everyone was concerned about their families, the ones they'd left behind. It had hit Mike, Everett, and Tom worst of all, since they all had children, or children on the way. Rob wasn't as big a concern. He was a talker, not one to hold his feelings inside. Tom and Mickey were the ones that worried Mike, neither of them big talkers. Mike knew that he and Everett would have to monitor the team to make sure they were okay.

Mike waved Everett off, "Don't worry, I'm okay, no problem." Mike pointed toward the cave entrance, "Anything going on?"

Everett understood that Mike was trying to divert his attention. His eyes narrowed, but he took the bait and allowed himself to be diverted, "No, nothing's going on."

Everett was on watch. From now on, there would always be one leader on watch with the guards. The days on this planet, or this dimension, or this universe, whatever the hell it was, were much longer than they were on Earth. The team had figured that out the first full day topside. The day didn't seem like it would ever end. So, they started timing the length of the day, hoping the information might help them figure out where they were. They timed the day from sunset to sunset to figure out how long the day was. This was complicated by the cloud cover in the area, so it wasn't precise, but they discovered the day here was about thirty-three hours long, give or take thirty minutes.

They broke down the day into four eight hour shifts, which would slowly rotate as that extra hour came into play. Mike, Everett, Jen, and Lieutenant Jondreau, or Ken as he now preferred to be called, were the leaders of the shifts. Security was evenly divided into four teams, ready to be called in case of emergency. Bodies were packed in close across the cave floor. Maintenance and logistics were broken down into shift rotations as well. Rob, Mickey, and Tom pitched in to ensure that all necessary leadership tasks were taken care of.

Mike swung his feet out of the sleeping bag, and then moved into a sitting position. There was a fire at the mouth of the cave with a murder bird roasting on a homemade spit. It turned out that murder bird was edible and very tasty, more like steak than bird. Plus, they were too stupid to run away when they saw a hunting party. They were like murderous dodo birds, running to their slaughter. He wondered about their eggs. He could use an omelet.

Mike looked out past the fire and he could see that night had fallen. He yawned. Everett squatted down next to the fire and filled a canteen cup with coffee and moved over to Mike and Rob. Rob sat down on the edge of the cot. Everett came over and gave them both cups of coffee. Everett sat down on his heels, and they were quiet for a minute as they thought about their families.

Rob asked, "Do you think we'll ever get back?

Mike looked at him, "Honestly, I don't know. I don't know where we are, or where they are, or how we can go back." He paused, "Hell, I don't even know if the brain trust downstairs can figure out where we are or what we can do about it."

They grew quiet again. Mike sipped his coffee, wondering when the last of it would run out, "Who's in the mech armor?"

Everett answered, "I put Murph in."

It had been agreed, in conference with the new committee leadership, that more people needed to get acclimatized to the mechs. The others may not have the athletic ability that Mike and his team did, but the work that the spec ops team had done paved the way for others to use the mechs. Plus, it made sense. If Mike, or anyone on the team, were hurt, they would need to be replaced. Now, the Air Force personnel and civilians were being rotated through systems training so the A.I. could get used to them. The A.I. had been reprogrammed so that it had profiles for the people that rotated in and out of the equipment. Mike even ensured that the profiles for Mike and his team were located on each mech in case they couldn't get to their original mechs.

This training was extending to more than just mech armor training. Mike and his team were shifting back to their Special Forces background and started training everyone on weapons systems, hand to hand combat, survival, small unit tactics, and first aid. While the older guys weren't able to fully participate in some of the more athletic activities, such as the hand to hand combat training, a lot of those older ones, especially the ones that had prior military training, were death with a rifle or hand gun.

Their major problem was ammunition. They were getting low. They dealt a large amount of damage to the dragons, and other predators. The rub was, these were large animals, and required a lot of damage to bring them down.

Tom was working with Hank, the fabrication lead, to build a few rifles big enough to take down the dragons. This led to other problems though, such as brass, gunpowder, and primers. They had the fifteen pieces of brass for the .50 BMG that was expended in the first fight with the original dragon. They only had thirty-five unfired cartridges left. They would have to figure out how to make new bullets. That wasn't an easy prospect when you didn't have an industrial base to work with. So, they had multiple problems they had to figure out, such as scaling down production for their little group.

Luckily, the small bullets for the rail guns were made of iron, so a pass with a homemade magnet over the area where the carcasses were eaten or decayed picked up most of the iron that had been fired. Some of the iron had been eaten with the chunks of meat and scattered. They understood they wouldn't be able to recover it all.

Still, staying where they were was untenable. They couldn't stay in the facility for several reasons. Climbing up and down the ladder everyday would get harder for the older people, and was, in fact, hard enough for some of them as it was now. So, they needed a base that was on the surface. There was also the problem that the structure was sitting at an angle, putting stress on the materials it was constructed from, stress that it wasn't designed or built to hold. The concrete was already starting to crack. Plus, they had to deal with the dragons, and the dragon spawn, that would continue to drift into the valley.

That last part was significant. Talking to Matki Awrani, who was some kind of hunter/scout/biologist for his people, Mike found out that, while the last beast that he fought was a big critter, some of the dragons could be as much as two tons larger. Mike didn't like the thought of having to fight two or three of those gigantic beasts at the same time. He didn't think that they would be able to survive that encounter. While the beasts might not be able to crack the mech armor, what would happen when they ran out of ammunition for the rail guns and the security team ran out of ammunition for the rifles that supported the mech team?

That wouldn't be a good day for anybody.

Mike asked Matki Awrani if there were any places that the dragons wouldn't or couldn't go. Matki responded by pointing at the mountains behind them. The mountains would stop the dragons, but it wouldn't stop the packs of young dragon spawn that might roam, looking for prey.

Mike's head hurt just trying to contemplate all the variables. He stood and stretched, "I think I'm going to get some fresh air."

Everett stood and said, "I think I'm going to join you. You don't mind, do you?"

Mike smiled, "why would I?"

Everett shrugged, "Well, you were thinking about Jo."

Mike motioned toward the cave entrance with his head, "No prob. Come on."

"Well, if you don't mind, then I'm coming' with you," Rob added.

They walked out, enjoying the cooler night air. During the daytime, the guys in the mechs chopped up the meat of the dragons and took it far away from the cave. They drug the carcasses close to the mouth of the valley, about fifteen kilometers away from the entrance of the cave. Even with the blood and gore strewn across the meadow, everybody was hoping that the distance and amount of meat would keep the other, larger scavengers away.

"God, this is a strange world," Everett said.

"Yeah, but there is a lot about it that is very familiar. It's almost as if we landed in a dimension just off from ours. I mean, what if the dinosaurs hadn't been wiped out by that big meteor in the Yucatan. Would the world have ended up like this?" Rob mused.

Mike continued to sip his coffee. The sounds of the small animals and insects drifted across the meadow. This was a good sound. Hopefully it meant that there weren't predators out there hunting them.

"So, what are we going to do?" Everett asked.

"Well, I think we need to move back up into the mountains. We need to send a scout team out to find a place we can fortify against predators. That would give us some space to drag everything out of here to, and then maybe we can set everything up so that we have electricity and some capability to fabricate what we need."

Everett nodded agreement.

Mike continued, "That means we have to get everybody on board. And I'm not sure these people want to be dragged further out of their comfort zone."

Everett added, "Yeah, they're so far outside their comfort zone, I'm amazed more of them haven't gone off their rocker like Jamison."

Mike shook his head at the mention of the name, "Yeah, all he does now is rock, drool, and keep saying it isn't his fault."

Jamison was failing at an alarming rate. The docs thought it was a series of strokes or maybe even a tumor.

Everett spoke, "How could it be his fault. I mean, what the hell. He's not a magician, and this isn't Oz."

A light source was trying to peak out from behind the clouds in the night sky. The clouds were still pretty thick, but there was definitely a glow behind them, indicating the presence of some kind of satellite. Silence descended again, as they sank back into memories. A light wind sprung up across the meadow. They watched as the breeze made the grasses in the meadow shift in rhythm. They relaxed further as the natural world moved around them.

Everett spoke, "Well, I think I'm going to go ahead and get some more coffee."

"Yeah, I think I'll get another cup. I'm going to stay out here for a while. I need some fresh air after sleeping next to Stein. What about you Rob?"

"No, I still have some."

Mike and Everett walked back to the fire. They poured some water, then sat the cups next to the fire, until it began to boil.

Joseph nodded as he walked past. Mike watched as the big security policeman walked past the large mech armor toward the latrine. Nobody dared to piss in the meadow anymore. Mickey put his foot down pretty quick to ensure that people weren't squatting down anywhere they decided, leaving urine and feces all over the place. He designated an area, then a 'hey you' work detail dug a slit trench for a latrine. Some of the women were upset at the lack of privacy. They got over it when it was pointed out that at the present time, walls would impede the security over watch from doing their jobs. Better to be exposed than to have a nasty critter sneak up on you.

Joseph stood at the slit trench and Mike looked away. Even though they worried about disease vectors, the slit trenches were pretty close. People shoveled in dirt to cover urine and feces when they were finished with their business. White toilet paper glowed in the night.

Rob said, "Hey, that's the first time I've seen the moon out here."

Everett and Mike looked up at this revelation.

Mike called out, "What, the moon's out?"

"Yeah, clear as a bell."

Everett looked at Mike, "I guess the wind blew the clouds away."

Mike replied, "Well, let's take a look."

He and Everett walked out and took a look at the sky. The moon was three quarters full.

"Wow. That looks fantastic."

Joseph zipped up and joined them.

The moon glow across the meadow, along the bobbing high grass, was mesmerizing. They stood a few minutes and stared at the moon. The moon didn't look quite the same. It had scars that Mike didn't remember.

"Well, we know we're on Earth."

Rob, Mike, and Sergeant Joseph looked at Everett, "What do you mean?"

Everett looked back at them, motioning toward the moon, "Our moon, our earth."

"Wow!" The group looked over at Rob, from whom the utterance had come from. Rob looked like he was deep in thought.

"What's up?" Everett asked.

Rob shook his head, like he was trying to clear it, "Something about what you just said, Everett. It brought back a memory." Rob looked over his shoulder at the mech, "Who's in the mech?"

Everett looked at him, "Murph."

Rob reached into his pocket, pulled out his ear bud, and put it in his ear, "Hey Murph, do you know how to use the visual functions on the mech armor."

Murphy's deep voice replied, "Ah, no, I'm just kind of watching the screens that are already up."

"Okay, no prob."

Rob walked over to the side of his mech armor. He grabbed a cleat and started climbing up the side.

"Hey Rob, what's going on?" Everett asked.

"Ah, nothing really, I just want to get some pictures. Something is nagging at a corner of my mind, and I need to see if it clicks with anybody downstairs in the brain trust."

"Anything we can do to help?" Mike asked.

"Naw, just give me a few minutes and I'll be back out."

Rob climbed in. This wouldn't need a full spool up, so he didn't even climb all the way down inside of the armor. He clicked on the switch that fired up the electronics, then pulled the helmet up and switched it on. He put the helmet on and watched the HUD light up.

As it lit up, he watched the drone feed spin up. Finally, it blinked on and showed the valley. He re-targeted the lens so that it was looking up at the moon in the sky. He took several pictures. He reset the drone camera back down to the valley below. He turned off the helmet and shut down the electrical systems. He shut the hatch of the mech armor to keep moisture out and climbed down the side.

"Get what you wanted?" Everett asked.

"Yeah, as good as I could, I guess."

"Anything you want to talk about?" Mike asked.

"No, I'll just wait until morning and drop downstairs and see if anybody knows something. It might be something, but it's probably nothing."

Mike kept quiet, trusting Rob's instincts.

The night moved on, to the sound of insects, wind rustling through the grass, the smell of coffee and roasting bird.

\--------------------------------------

The next morning, Rob found Bobby McFarland. With Bobby's help, they searched the internet pages to find what was nagging at Rob. Rob was a smart guy, with one hell of a memory. He had a ninety percent retention of everything he read. Last night, when he looked at the moon, and with Everett's declaration that it was the same moon, he remembered something that he learned in an elective astrophysics class about the solar system.

Once he found the information he was looking for and did the calculations, he brought the information to Mike and Everett. Mike, being the mathematician of the group, ran Rob's calculations again. Mike wasn't happy with the results. Rob's calculations were correct. Mike approached Pang and Jondreau. They in turn talked to Colonel Mitchem, Dr. Randall, Major Nosstrand, Bob Leitz, Dr. Humphreys, and Dr. Nachman.

A meeting time was set. Those individuals all came up to the surface. What Rob had to say was important, and, if spread through the facility without proper socialization, could cause major problems. When everybody was topside, the crowd moved out into the meadow. Tom and Mickey were on guard to ensure that nobody walked to the crowd and interrupted. Rich Stein was inside the mech armor on watch.

Mike started, "First, I want to thank you for coming out when we asked."

Mitchem and Randall didn't look happy, but when did they ever. When they heard there may be an explanation about where they were, they reluctantly agreed to come out. Mike didn't think he would ever get them on his side. He really didn't care, but he needed everybody's support right now, to include Mitchem and Randall.

" _I wonder if Mitchem knows about his new nickname,"_ he thought, "Probably. Kind of hard to avoid it."

Dr. Nachman spoke, "Well, if you have an explanation for how we got here, then I think everybody is willing to listen."

Major Nosstrand spoke, "And if we find out how we got here, maybe we can figure out how to get back."

Mike paused for a moment, "Well, we'll see."

He continued, "Since its Rob's theory, I'm just going to let him talk."

The group looked at Rob with anticipation. He cleared his throat, "Well, I don't know if any of you know anything about the moon and its relationship with earth," He held up his hand as a few looked ready to speak, "Ah, just let me finish, then we can go ahead and talk about it in general." They settled down, and he continued, "We took some pictures of the moon face last night, and this moon is our moon. There are a few new scars on the face, but you have the same craters, and the dark spots from its early history. They correspond with the same spots we have on our moon. So, I can say with high probability it is our moon."

Bob asked, "So, this means that we're in a parallel universe or something?"

Rob answered, "Well, more 'or something' than parallel universe."

The crowd looked confused so he continued, "What a lot of people don't know about the moon is, due to tidal forces and the transfer of angular momentum from the earth to the moon, the moon is actually moving away from the earth a small distance, about one and one half inches per year."

Mitchem spoke, "What does that have to do with anything?"

Rob continued, "Well, due to this energy and momentum being transferred to the moon, the earth's rotation is actually slowing down, a few milliseconds every year."

They didn't connect the facts.

Rob broke it to them, "The earth's rotation right now is about thirty-three hours, which means that we have an additional nine hours added to our day."

It connected to the ones with the science backgrounds. Groans sounded, ripped from the people that caught on. Bob sagged to the ground, squatting as he put his hands over his face. Dr. Nachman leaned back, looking up at the sky, his arms folded against his chest.

Major Nosstrand looked like she was going to throw up.

Mitchem, since he was more of an administrator than a scientist or engineer, looked confused, "What the hell is going on?"

Randall looked at him like at Mitchem as if he was a child. Randall looked at Rob, "Have you done the math? How long?"

Rob looked very unhappy as he nodded at the question, "Yeah, I did the calculations. And since Mike is a mathematician, I had him run them as well. Nine hundred thousand to a billion years."

Mitchem was really confused now, "A billion years for what? What the hell are you all talking about?"

Mike took pity on him and explained, "It means, that we're about nine hundred thousand to a billion years into the future from our time."

Mitchem's face cratered, "How's that possible? That isn't possible? How could that happen?"

Mike looked at all of the scientists before him, "I don't know. I was hoping that one of you might." All he saw was confusion on the faces around him. "Look, you're the people that created the quantum computers. You created the batteries that seem to suck energy out of nothing, quantum batteries that create energy by tapping into the vibration of quarks. So, since you're messing with the basic laws of physics, I wonder if one of you knows something about what's happened to us."

Mike looked at Nachman, "I hear that you worked with physicists for the quantum battery that we use in the mech armor and the big battery that's running the facility."

Nachman nodded slowly, "Yes, but that couldn't do this."

Mike asked, "Do you know of anything that they were proposing that might have touched on this?"

Nachman was quiet for a moment as he thought about it, "Well, I helped with the structures that they needed to tap into the quantum fields. The only thing that I can think of was a discussion on the quantum Zeno effect, the Turing paradox, stochastic systems, and the Bekenstein bound."

Mike thought, "Great, I have no idea what the hell that might be."

Mike spoke, "This was pertaining to what?"

Nachman said, "They were trying to figure out how to keep the mech armor from being defeated by large energy delivery systems."

"Energy systems? Like what?"

"They knew that the enemy would try to figure out how to defeat the mech armor. One of the ways they thought this might happen would be if someone figured out a way to pulse a large amount of energy at the armor to defeat the graphene fibers. They wanted to defeat or channel those pulses away from the armor."

The group stood and thought about this for a moment. Pang was the first to break the silence, "Well, a nuclear attack is a large pulse of energy. Were they trying to figure out how to defeat a pulse of energy that big?"

Nachman slowly shook his head, "I don't know. I know they were thinking about every type of battlefield condition that the armor might run into. This was all theoretical, however."

Bob added, "Yeah, and two years ago, quantum computing was a theory. Then we had the quantum computer and they figured out the quantum battery. What the hell else would they be able to figure out with the help of a quantum computer?"

Mitchem spoke up, "There's no place that it could be. We only have the quantum battery and quantum servers for our computers in the facility. That plus all of the fabrication equipment. We don't have anything else."

Mike thought about Jamison, "Would Jamison put anything in the facility without telling you?"

Mitchem thought for a second and replied, "Well, he couldn't put it in. Smith, Crandall, and Weitz would have to help get everything put into place. They designed all the systems in the facility."

Pang spoke, "Then let's go ask them if there's anything we should know about."

\--------------------------------------

They called and got Luis Garcia and John Smith to come up for a conference. Luis and John were the main electrical engineers that designed the systems of the Area 19 facility. Before they climbed the ladder to come upstairs, John sent another tech to find Josh Weitz and tell him to come up. The two men walked out to where the group was standing. Since so many people were out of the cave for such a long time, Tom climbed into his mech armor and moved forward to cover for them.

Luis was in front of John when they walked out. He greeted everybody and then asked, "So, what's up?" John caught up and said hello, then listened as Mike started asking questions.

"We were wondering if anything has been installed recently in the facility."

Luis thought, "Such as? I mean, we install new computers, servers, work on upgrading the electronics, put new things into the mech armor. I need a little bit more to go on."

Mitchem spoke, "Something that may be unusual, or different than what you have done in the past."

Luis had a contemplative look on his face as he thought about this, but John spoke first, "Well, we did do that upgrade to the servers." Luis agreed, "Yeah, we received some new components that had to be added to the main servers."

Mike looked at Mitchem, "Did you authorize this?"

"Authorize it? No, I didn't even know that there was going to be an upgrade."

Bob was facing toward the cave, "Hey there's Josh. If there was a computer upgrade, he would know about it."

Josh came over, unhappy that he was there, his petulant teenager persona back in the forefront. Mike wondered how he'd ever kept a job back in the world. Mitchem, unwilling to deal with his whining, cut to the chase, "Josh, has any kind of system upgrade been done to the computers?"

Josh shook his head, "Upgrade, no. No upgrades were authorized through me. There are no upgrades available right now. They were talking about some new capabilities they discovered that were going to be incorporated into the new system next year, but not right now."

Smith looked at Garcia, "Then what the hell did we install?"

Mike asked, "Who told you to add the new equipment to the computer?"

Weitz looked concerned, "Wait, what? Somebody added more equipment to the computer? What the hell? Nobody ran the specs by me."

Smith turned to Weitz, "Well, there was a box on the third floor, and Jamison came down and told us that we needed to add it to the existing servers."

Weitz spoke, "This didn't come through me. I haven't seen anything new, no additional traffic or energy spikes on my diagnostics."

Mike paused, then said, "I think we all need to go downstairs and take a look at the computer system."

The group agreed. It took a while, and in hindsight, Mike should have just held the meeting downstairs. It was much easier to get physically fit soldiers down than it was to get out of shape scientists up or down the ladder. Rob stayed upstairs, with Everett. As the group walked past the cots in the play room, he looked at Jamison, who was drooling and muttering to himself and thought, "What do you know, you crazy bastard." Jamison couldn't move the left side of his body. Joan Nosstrand saw the direction of Mike's gaze, "it has to be a tumor. I don't think that anything else could be affecting him like this. He's lost a lot of motor function."

They walked past to the stairwell, following Mitchem and the brain trust upstairs. They navigated the stairs to the third floor. This would be the first time Mike saw the battery that was running the facility and the servers that ran all the software. He was disappointed when he saw what was actually in the room. Luis pointed out the different components to the group.

There were racks of electronic and computer transmission equipment. It only took up a quarter of the room. The racks were right up against the back wall, and next to it was a cube about three feet on all sides. Electrical cables led to it. Evidently that was all that was needed for the quantum battery. Next to it was a narrower cube, maybe two feet wide and a foot and a half deep, also about the same height as the quantum battery. It had a laptop computer sitting on top of it. Along one side of the quantum computer a smaller panel had been removed. A power cable was plugged in, and about twenty fiber cables led from it to the computer racks that held the transmission equipment.

Weitz walked forward, "What the hell is that?"

Garcia replied, "That's what Jamison had us install."

Weitz looked at the cube on the floor. Compared to the elegant quantum battery and the quantum computer, it was a behemoth. It was six feet long, four feet wide and five feet tall. It was in the same type of black graphene cabinet that the other two were in. It had no power source. It only had a single USB cable running from it to the quantum computer.

The group of people looked at them and watched as the three engineers conferred.

Weitz continued, "Was there any paperwork, anything that could tell you what the hell this thing is?"

Smith nodded. He walked over to a desk and grabbed a thin book and then gave it to Weitz.

Weitz opened up the book, "What the hell is a null generator?"

He looked up at everybody else, "Does anybody know what a null generator is?"

Bob answered, "I don't know, but in light of what we've experienced, I don't like the name."

Mike spoke, "Can you please disconnect that damn thing to ensure that we don't suddenly end up floating in space on a charred planet as the sun explodes?"

Nachman said, "We don't even know if that's what got us here."

"Yeah, but I don't want to take any chances. I don't know what a null generator is, but I think, if you people don't know what the hell it does, I would prefer it be unplugged."

Weitz raised his hand, index finger pointed toward the ceiling, "Wait, I want to check something."

He walked over to the computer and started to run programs.

"Okay, I think I found the code when you plugged it in. Was it on Monday, the 13th?"

Smith and Garcia turned to look at each other as they did the mental calculations, and then both nodded their heads in the affirmative. Luis replied, "Yeah, that was the date."

Mike thought about that particular date. That was after the Saturday he and his team unloaded the truck and brought the equipment downstairs. He mentioned that to the group.

Mitchem started talking, "So, Jamison used people that aren't ordinarily used to unload the truck, and he didn't tell Josh that this piece of equipment would be plugged in." He breathed in deeply and then exhaled, "What the hell."

Weitz kept looking at the information on the screen. He spoke, "Well, it looks like, a few days ago, right when we experienced the incident, the null generator suddenly had a spike of activity. A command was sent to it, then it started gathering some additional information."

Mitchem asked, "What information?"

"Telemetry information, about missiles." Josh studied the screen closely, "actually about missiles heading toward our location. Then there was no more information."

Josh looked up, "I think we were cut off from everything after that. No more information was available."

The group thought about this. Mitchem spoke, "It sounds like it was monitoring to find out if we were about to be hit, then it did whatever it does. Then we ended up here."

Mike looked at Humphreys and Nosstrand, "If Jamison becomes lucid, you might want to talk to him about this." They both nodded. Mike had another idea. He looked at Weitz, "Can you read Jamison's emails?"

Weitz looked at Mitchem, for permission. Mitchem nodded.

"Yeah, I can do that. What are you looking for?"

Mike answered, "Anything that can tell us what the hell that thing does."

Weitz nodded.

Mike looked at the group, "Now, I need to talk to you about moving."

\--------------------------------------

Chapter Eighteen – A Place to call Home

They were reluctant to move. Everyone hoped there was some way that they would be able to stay in the facility. Their situation was untenable, though. Mike used the recorded battles between his team and the dragons. He had Bobby pull up the files on the big screen TV in the play room so that he could run the last battle past the entire group.

"Now look, right there, that large bastard. And that's not the largest one out there, according to M.A. He said that there are bigger ones. If they were fighting each other, I wouldn't have a problem, but you notice back on this recording," He switched back to the recording from the first fight with the three dragons, "They cooperate, when they go into hunting mode, or if something attacks them. If we run into two or three of them like that big male that fell on me, we may not survive the encounter."

Smiles broke out at that memory. Mike continued, "Yeah, pretty funny, but it highlights one thing. It took three of us to take that damn big ass lizard out, and it put one of us, me, out of commission. God forbid, but what if there are more than three."

He had their attention now, "Truth is, we're running out of ammunition. I only have thirty-five rounds of .50 caliber, and ten rounds of .338 Lapua left. As for the .308 or .556, that just tickles them. We need to find more iron for the rail guns. Now, that isn't a problem, because we have plenty of rebar in this building. So, we can wreck the rebar out for the metal. And, we can use some of your more esoteric building materials for wherever we end up at. We need a place where we can hunker down and fortify. Or, maybe we can find a place that's naturally fortified."

He got arguments from the scientists and techs. They couldn't find any weaknesses in his main arguments, though. They finally conceded that he had a point, but it took a while for Mike to get them there. Eventually they all agreed that, as much as they wanted to, they couldn't stay here in the facility. Now, with their agreeing to move, Mike explained his plan to them.

It started with a reconnaissance of the valley. They couldn't just move, they had to have a place to go. Mike sent Rob out with Matki Awrani, Pang, Murph and Joseph for the scout team. Lenny created an app, with Weitz's help, that translated between English and M.A.'s language, so Rob and Pang were able to talk to M.A. without taking Lenny along. Since Rob was a construction and structural engineer, he was the best team member to send on the the mission, with M.A. as their scout. Rob drove his mech for team over watch. They went into the mountains to find a new home. They were out scouting for two weeks before they came back.

In that time, Mike suited up three times to kill dragons. Luckily, they came in as singles. Then they fought and killed ten grasnigs that smelled food and came hunting. They never came with less than two, usually three in a pack. The large predators kept coming. Soon, even the people that were griping about moving started to realize that their position was untenable. Trips up and down the ladder to defecate and urinate enforced this realization.

The people left behind started pulling supplies together. They stripped everything, leaving only the electrical system for the fourth floor. They repositioned the computer servers and quantum battery to the fourth floor. They stripped everything from the other floors, hoping that they would have enough out of the detritus to wire the new location. Powered pulley elevators were created to get everything to the top. They started with the necessary things, then moved down to the like to have things, and then to the 'I don't know what we'll use it for, but it might be good to have.'

Finally, the recon team came back from their expedition. Pang was in the front, rifle at the ready, looking like the littlest bad ass warrior. Not a stretch in the imagination there. To either side of her were the large bulks of Joseph and Murph. Rob brought up the rear in the mech. M.A. sat on the top of the mech, eating some kind of plant as he rode it like the howdah on an elephant.

Mike clicked on his ear bud, "Hey Rob, what's up, how's things going?"

Rob replied, "I would be doing much better if I didn't have to watch M.A.'s ass on my HUD."

"Just ask him to get off."

"Not going to happen. He likes the height, being able to look around. Plus, he's actually been able to spot a few nasty creatures ready to pounce. So, his ass aside, it's a good thing he's riding up there."

"Talk to your A.I., maybe it can switch off that particular camera."

"Hey, great idea, hang on."

Mike waved at Pang and she waved back. He got a wave from Joseph and Murph. Then he saw a wide grin on M.A.'s face as he saw Mike. M.A. waved. Mike wondered how the hell M.A. was able to ride on the mech armor without falling off, "Hey, is it dangerous for M.A. to be up there?"

"He's a monkey. He can scramble up the mech armor while it's walking. We asked him about it, but he keeps climbing back up. If he's not worried, I'm not worried."

Mike chuckled as Rob continued, "Hey, the A.I. was able to turn off that camera. Thanks Mike."

Mickey clicked on, "Two weeks? And you couldn't figure that out? Rob, admit it, you just like looking at M.A.'s ass."

"Screw you, big man."

"Get a ladder, short guy, you're going to need one."

Tom jumped in, "What did I just hear? Mickey wants Rob to screw him?"

"That's not what I said."

"That's what I heard you say. You told him to get a ladder so that he could screw you. That sounds like an invitation to me."

"How would you know; you haven't had to chase ass in a long time."

Everybody got quiet. Mickey spoke, "Oh man, I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . . I mean, I didn't . . . "

Tom waved it off, "Don't worry, Mickey. I know, you didn't mean it. No prob. I know that Barb and the kids are in a better place. If there truly is a heaven, that woman is definitely there. She put up with me long enough to earn the right."

Mike spoke to break the mood, "Alright guys, let's get back to work."

Pang walked up. Mike held out his fist and she gave it a bump.

"How did it go?" he asked.

She nodded, "It went well. We found a place that's defensible. Rob thinks the surrounding area is pretty stable. He said the area is granite which is a good, hard rock to work with. He tried the pulse laser on it and got a straight cut. He thinks he can build what we need. Best of all, it has a pool of water that's fed by a waterfall, possibly a spring."

Murph and Joseph said hello, and went into the cave, high fiving and fist bumping the crowd as they walked through. Mike returned their greeting and then turned back to talk to Jennifer. As they chatted about what she'd seen, Rob walked up and parked his mech. M.A. shifted his body as the mech armor squatted down into its parked position. M.A. wasn't even concerned, walking over the moving mech armor as it settled, hands free until he started climbing down.

When he got on the ground, he walked over to Mike with his hand out. Jennifer looked at M.A., "Bro hug coming, Murph taught him." Mike caught the hand and then did a partial hug with the other arm, patting him on the back. M.A. walked into the cave, looking for chocolate. The door popped open and Rob climbed down.

"Well?" Mike asked.

Rob nodded, "We found a place, a narrow cliff opening, widens behind, with enough area to cut into the face of the granite. Even better, though, I found a place that has limestone so that we can make mortar. Oh, and water, we have lots of water. It runs out of the cliff opening, a small waterfall fed by a spring. At least I think it's a spring. It's pretty high up on the cliff face."

Mike said, "Well, building is your expertise, so we go with your suggestion. With the spring, it sounds like the perfect place to me."

They talked some more, had some coffee, and then all three went down to talk to the brain trust.

\--------------------------------------

It had been a long three months. During the building of the new facility, everybody else had been working to get all of the materials moved up for transportation. Then they built wooden wagons to transport everything out to the new site. As Rob drove his team to get everything built, Mike drove everyone to get everything moved. Teams took turns getting the wagons loaded and transported to the new location. Rob even figured out how to add plumbing and flush toilets to what everybody was calling the compound.

The team was in high gear, clearing out the cave. They piled everything on top of the wagon. They were the last ones out. Mike, Everett, and Tom had been fighting the incursions by predators while Rob and Mickey escorted the gear and people to the new location. Now, with everything transported, Mike and the team had filled the throat of the tunnel with dirt, and then piled rock six feet in front of that. Mike was hoping that this would keep predators out, at least until they could figure out a way to mine all of the rebar out of the facility.

"Well, that's that," Everett pronounced.

Mike nodded, grabbing his water bladder, and taking a long, cool drink. There was no more coffee. All of the MREs and licky-chewies were gone as well. Now, the entire group relied completely on what they found in this wilderness to sustain them. People were losing weight.

Jamison died, a month after they started moving. He had a malignant brain tumor, and it finally took his life. Humphreys and Nosstrand thought this might explain the questionable things he had done before the incident. Looking through the emails, they could see the shift in his personality as he became more and more paranoid. His personal relationships with family had gone completely downhill about two months before Mike and the team arrived.

The null generator was exactly that. The big minds back at DARPA made a big discovery about gravity. It would have led the planet into a new age of space travel. The null generator was just part of the new technology that was being developed. Problem was, it hadn't been set up correctly. Diagnostics weren't done, and the internal cesium clock hadn't been set. If Weitz had been able to set it up, they wouldn't be one billion years in the future right now.

Waves were an interesting subset of physics. In fact, all energy and matter were comprised of waveforms. Once you understood the wave characteristics of the four fundamental forces, you could develop waveforms that would interact and cancel them. This created a null interaction within the space/time reality as the field was generated. When the cesium clock stopped working, this field stopped being generated. If it hadn't stopped working, God alone knew where they would be. This information had devastated the small community. Now, they knew there was no going back. This was their life now. They were stranded on this island of time.

Mike pointed his chin toward the mechs, "Time to saddle up." There were only three of them. Tom was already in the mech.

Airman Babcock and Jamison were the only ones left. Everett was urinating on Jamison's grave. He zipped up and walked to his machine.

They climbed up and into the mechs. Mike looked back at the cave, one more time. He looked at his past, then put his helmet on. There was nothing more he could do. There were no monsters he could fight, no reality he could change to alter the fate that he had been dealt.

" _I'm sorry Jo, I broke my promise."_

The interface was blurry as he wept for his lost love, his heart breaking. He was trapped, no way home. The mech armor stood, and Mike strode toward his new future.

\--------------------------------------

Epilogue – The Past

Jack watched Jo cry, and his heart was breaking. He was in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee. Jo was in the living room, her arms around her legs, sitting on the couch. Sarah was sitting with Jo, holding her as she cried. Jo had lost the love of her life, and she couldn't get through to her family in Syracuse to see if they were okay. Jack had been devastated by the news that Mike was at Malmstrom AFB when the missiles hit. But he dealt with it. His family wouldn't survive if he let it destroy him. So, he buried it deep down inside his heart.

The entire world suffered. Nuclear strikes had destroyed the major cities and military installations in the USA. The super volcano in Yellowstone had been hit by nuclear missiles and erupted. The entire Great Plains was covered in ash a foot deep. Nuclear winter settled over the land like the hand of death. The crazies were talking about the judgment of God. The cities that hadn't been hit quickly succumbed to chaos and violence. Famine and disease wracked the world, continuing the killing that the nuclear war had started. Right now, he was so thankful that he'd bought land in the mountains, away from the city. Still, it might end up turning into a slow death for his family instead of the quick one Mike had endured. With life, there was hope, though.

The farm wasn't too far from Higden, Georgia. They were situated well, back in one of the valleys in the mountains. The boys from the National Guard armory had pulled out all of their equipment and were dealing with the roaming, murdering gangs from Atlanta. The gangs came, but they didn't leave. Mass graves were dug for them after each incursion. The good people in the area were close and were sticking by each other.

The local meth addicts were given no mercy when they started stealing. The local sheriff wasn't having it. Gone was the revolving justice that the United States used to deal out. Now, stealing was death. The locals of Higden dealt violence for violence and were getting a reputation as a place people shouldn't mess with. Still, when they could, they took in stragglers, mostly women and children, who had escaped the violence that surrounded them.

Jack sipped his coffee. He felt arms go around his waist. He patted his wife's hands with his.

"Hey honey, how're you?" he asked.

"Sad, so sad," Allison answered.

Jack nodded, "Yeah, it gets me as well."

"Do you think that we'll ever see him again? Could he have lived?"

Jack shook his head, "Multiple warheads, and a volcano erupting. There is no way he survived. Besides, it's been four weeks. If he was alive, nothing would keep him from Jo."

He could feel Allison's body move as she cried. He sat down his coffee and turned to hold her in his arms. Gently, he kissed the top of her head, "Honey, we have Mike's wife, and his baby. We'll do everything we can to make sure that they survive. That's the best thing we can do for Mike."

She continued crying. He spoke, gently, "Ally, the only thing that we can do is pray that, wherever Mike is, he's in God's hands."

She nodded.

Jack was glad that he spent his days prepping for bad times. They had freeze dried food downstairs, enough to feed the family for a year. He had bins of beans, and other foods that wouldn't spoil. He had heirloom seeds to plant. He had silver for anything else they may need. He also had enough weapons to dissuade bad men from trying anything stupid. Hard times were ahead. He just hoped that he could get his family through them.

He slowly moved Ally's arms from around his waist. Then he led her into the living room to Jo and Sarah. Ally sat down with Jo, across from Sarah, and put her arms around her. They were all crying now. Jack was just grateful that this had been Jo's first stop after she flew from Montana. If she had gone to Syracuse, he would have lost her and the baby, the last part of Mike. He was thankful that she had those last days with him.

Jack moved to the door and put on a warm jacket. He picked up his M14 rifle, opened the door, and stepped outside. He was going to walk the perimeter, and make sure that his family was safe.

Craig was outside. Craig was Jack's step-son, but he loved him like he loved Mike. He became Craig's stepdad when Craig was two years old and Sarah was one. Unlike Mike, Craig had never been interested in traveling, preferring to stay close to home. He was forest ranger in the Chattahoochee-Oconee National Forest. He was also a captain in the GANG, the Georgia Army National Guard. Craig used his position to start the local defense against the roaming gangs of people that came out of the big cities to plunder and murder in the country side.

Craig nodded at Jack, "Hey dad." Craig was drinking coffee, the steam from the cup rising in the cold air. His Smith and Wesson Military and Police model pistol in .40 caliber was on his hip, and an M4 liberated from the GANG armory was strapped across his chest, "Getting cold out here."

Jack nodded, "And it's only going to get colder."

###

Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, would you please consider leaving a review at your favorite retailer?

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Thanks,

Mark Harritt

## About the Author

The author is currently an over the road Truck Driver who is frequently found at the end of a 400 to 500-mile day trying to peck out one to two thousand words on a new book. He's an Army paratrooper with a background in intelligence operations. He spent six years in Iraq and Afghanistan, in uniform and out. Currently, his greatest challenges are black ice, lake effect snow, and uploading word documents to E-reader format, all equally treacherous endeavors. His greatest hope is to write stories that his readers enjoy.

### Other Books by Mark Harritt

The Demon Deception

Earth Exiles Series

On Distant Shores – Book 1

Eden's Children – Book 2

### Connect with Mark Harritt

Hey, if you want to contact me, drop me a line at

mark.harritt@outlook.com.

You can follow me on Twitter @MHarritt

I also have a webpage at Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9184359.Mark_Harritt

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