Chapter Thirty-One

 

 

 

 

Dave inhaled the humid air of the Ecuadoran plain. The musty scent of vegetation still permeated the air, even though much of the nearby land had been cleared. He tapped on the taut sheet of graphene that rose up into the sky and waited impatiently for the arrival of Frank’s engine. Standing at the top of the Ecuador anchor station, helicopters hovered nearby, and every minute or so, a fighter jet would zip by–all assigned to keep watch over the highly secure site. Bulldozers were busy clearing the last of the jungle vegetation within a three-mile radius of the substation. Dave glanced at Bella and pointed at the thousands of soldiers who were creating a multi-layer secure perimeter. The soldiers were everywhere, all of them tasked with keeping him and the site safe as far as the eye could see. “Could you have ever imagined such a thing?”

Bella shrugged. “It makes sense. They don’t want to take any chances, especially with all hopes hanging in the balance.”

“I know, but it seems like overkill.” Dave’s gaze veered suddenly toward what looked like an incoming caravan of military assault vehicles, many of them with machine guns installed on their roofs. His heart raced as he spied an armored cargo carrier in the midst of the vehicles. He began walking toward the stairs as he pointed to the line of trucks. “That’s got to be the engine. Let’s go meet them.”

With Bella on his heels, Dave raced downstairs, through the shell of the ruined substation and out the front door.

“Doctor Holmes!” One of soldiers barked at him, and moved in his way. “Please wait here for the cargo. We don’t want any accidents.”

The man held an expression that brooked no argument. Dave’s gaze was drawn to the Special Forces tab the soldier wore on his left sleeve, and it suddenly dawned on him that the president must really be concerned if she’d sent the Army’s elite troops to watch over the site. Despite the warmth of the day, a chill ran through him as he wondered if there was something he wasn’t being told about the threats against them all.

###

Under Dave’s direction, a group of four soldiers carried the crate into the otherwise inoperable substation. This was one of the substations that had had its contents damaged by the electrical surge that resulted from the suitcase bomb at a nearby collector substation.

As the soldiers unpacked the engine, Dave glanced at the ceiling. His gaze followed the three-foot-wide ribbon of graphene that descended from the closed slit in the roof. The end of the graphene ribbon was attached to a wiring harness that was, in turn, linked to a burnt-out transformer.

Extracting a wrench from his tool belt, Dave loosened the connecting bolts on the wiring harness, disconnected it from the transformer, and inspected the harness’s connector.

Bella asked, “Is it damaged?”

Dave shook his head and showed her the shiny gold leads on the end of the harness. “No thermal damage whatsoever.”

“Doctor Holmes,” said a soldier, waving to catch Dave’s attention. “We’re done unpacking. Do you want to leave this on its base?”

Turning to the engine, Dave backed slightly away and motioned toward the closed slit in the roof five feet above him. “Can you scoot the engine closer, and bring it under this clear ribbon? I’ll hook it up.”

Four soldiers carefully slid the base of the engine until it sat directly beneath the graphene ribbon, and Dave proceeded to attach the wiring harness to one of the electrical leads coming out of Frank’s engine.

A soldier who’d helped unpack the engine approached Dave and asked, “Sir, is there anything else I can help with? I’m one of the men assigned to this station and will be acting as this shift’s maintenance engineer.”

Dave glanced at the man’s name stenciled onto his fatigues and clapped him on the shoulder. “Sergeant Vasquez, I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got it for now.”

“Yes, sir!”

Dave confirmed that Frank’s engine was properly connected to the graphene ribbon, then retrieved a satellite phone from his belt and punched in the numbers to the NORAD Mission Control. The phone rang once, twice ... and then the crackling sound of an operator broadcast through the phone. “Operator 1543, Cheyenne Mountain switchboard. Where may I connect you?”

“Operator, this is Doctor David Holmes, ID 591-92-2847, patch me into someone at Mission Control.”

“Voice print and ID confirmed, patching you in to Mission Specialist Karen Weisskopf.”

Almost immediately, a woman’s voice broadcast through the connection. “Mission Specialist Weisskopf. How can I help you, Doctor Holmes?”

“I’m about to bring the Ecuador substation back online, but I need you to read back to me the current energy flow going through the warp ring.”

“Understood, the current flow into the ring is at 39.3 percent of the required rate you’d specified.”

Dave pressed mute on the phone and knelt next to Frank’s engine. He extracted a small Allen wrench from his belt and began checking the settings on the control panel.

Kneeling next to him, Bella asked, “I thought we set the control panel’s rheostat sensitivity to as high as it will go already?”

He leaned over and gave Bella’s cheek a kiss. “We did, but I don’t want to take any chances that its settings had somehow changed during the engine’s transport.”

He applied a small amount of counter-clockwise torque on the wrench, verifying that the engine remained on its highest sensitivity setting. Dave took the phone off mute and said, “Weisskopf, I’m about to activate the Ecuador substation. Let me know what happens on your end.”

“Roger that. I’ll let you know as soon as I see any changes.”

Dave’s heart thudded heavily in his chest and he wiped sweat off his palms. Out of his peripheral vision, he noticed that a half-dozen soldiers had gathered to watch him as he double and triple checked the connection and the rheostat sensitivity setting.

In his mind, he feared that the charred sphere was simply sitting inside Frank’s engine, inert. And when he turned on Frank’s engine, it would drain whatever energy was holding the magnetic seal shut and the engine would pop open and this would all be for nothing.

Dave shook his head as he realized the irony of the situation. It would be no worse if the whole engine exploded when he turned it on. Everything hinged on this working perfectly.

Bella rested her hand on his shoulder and whispered, “You’re fine. Let’s see what happens.”

Taking a deep breath, Dave put his fingers on the engine’s power control knob and ever-so-slightly twisted it off the “0” position.

He immediately sensed a tickle in the air. Whether it was his imagination or something else, he couldn’t be sure, but his skin began to crawl with a prickly sensation just as the voice on the phone called out an alert. “Ecuador substation, I just received a large spike of energy from your location. The power reading is increasing across the ring ... we are now at 63.5 percent of operating requirements.”

An overwhelming sense of amazement mixed with relief flooded through Dave as Bella squeezed his shoulder and whispered, “Wow.”

With a deep, shuddering breath, Dave clicked the power setting up one notch and stared expectantly at the phone.

“Ecuador substation, we have received another spike from your location. The power has increased to 87.7 percent of operating requirements.”

Dave brought the phone closer to his face. “Weisskopf, what’s the overall status across the DefenseNet grid?”

“Doctor Holmes, the signal is clean. All systems are operating within normal parameters. I hope I’m not out of bounds by saying this, but thank you.”

Dave noticed a couple of the soldiers giving each other fist bumps, and smiled. The weight on his shoulders seemed just a bit less than it had been. “Mission Specialist Weisskopf, there’s no need to thank me, but nonetheless, you’re welcome.” Dave waved toward the soldier who’d previously approached him. “I’m now handing comms over to a Sergeant Vasquez, but I think that’ll be all for now.” He handed his satellite phone to the sergeant and smiled. “The site is all yours. Don’t let anything happen to it.”

###

Stryker had just rotated out of the Indian Point facility and landed at McGuire Air Force Base only twenty minutes ago. A few hundred other MPs from several branches of the military had also just arrived from other parts of the northeast.

A chilly evening breeze blew across the tarmac while Stryker stood at ease, listening to General Harold McCallister’s briefing.

The general’s voice boomed loudly through an array of speakers, but as the older man droned on, Stryker’s mind wandered to his family, especially his kids. He felt sick to his stomach at not having been able to talk to them in nearly two months. His last contact with them was as they boarded the bus at the Port Authority. Glancing at the men and women around him, he knew he wasn’t the only one longing for their family.

“As you already know, the evacuations are complete. Taking advantage of the warm summer and mild fall weather, the evacuation sites have largely been tent cities. All the while, the Army Corps of Engineers, along with FEMA, have been busy creating sturdier and more weather-appropriate shelters, which are now ready.

“Before we transfer the evacuees, we need people at the new locations to help coordinate and deal with security issues as they come along.

“You’ll all be deployed to one of a few dozen different evacuation sites. The duration of your assignments will likely be in excess of six months.”

Stryker’s stomach dropped as he imagined himself being away from his kids for a year or more.

He swallowed hard as the general continued.

“I realize how trying this time is for all of you. For those of you with families affected by the evacuation, I’ve arranged as best as I can to have you stationed near or at the site where your loved ones are located.”

A spark of hope bloomed in his chest as the general’s words registered.

Several soldiers had been walking amongst the gathered MPs throughout the general’s talk. One of them approached Stryker, glanced at his uniform, handed him an envelope, and moved on to the next MP in line.

He glanced at the envelope with “Lieutenant Jonathan Stryker” printed on its front.

“That’s pretty much the end of the briefing. You’ll all be gathering further details when you get to your locations. I’ve got people handing out your assignments now. We’ve arranged for transports on the far end of the tarmac. Go to the designated line for the location on your paperwork.

“I pray that we all see this through without further incident. Just remember, we’re all depending on each other to keep things together until this is over.

“Fall out!”

Stryker immediately ripped open the envelope, extracted the paper inside, and scanned his orders.

He barely suppressed a whoop of joy as he spied his assignment location.

Poconos Evacuation Center.

“What the hell,” someone yelled.

Stryker turned and the southern sky grew brighter as what had been a dim ribbon of light suddenly began to intensify.

The line arcing from horizon to horizon had suddenly become too bright to gaze at directly.

The general’s voice growled through the speakers once again. “I said, fall out! The transports are waiting on you.”

With a newfound surge of energy, Stryker raced toward the far end of the tarmac.

He had no clue why DefenseNet had suddenly gotten so bright, but it didn’t matter.

Stryker smiled as he imagined seeing his kids again.

For the moment, nothing else mattered.

###

“Form a perimeter. Get them away from the outer walls!”

Dave rocketed out of bed as heavily-armed soldiers swarmed into their secured barracks, just outside of the Mariscal Sucre International Airport. Bella screamed as soldiers lifted her from their bed, and they were both forcefully escorted away from the windows.

Ripping his arm out of the grip of one of the soldiers, Dave grabbed Bella’s hand and yelled, “What the hell is going on?” Soldiers flipped up their mattress and placed it against the windows.

One soldier gripped Dave’s arm, leaned close to him, and explained, “Doctor Holmes, the Ecuador substation was just attacked. We’ve been ordered to initiate an emergency evac—”

Suddenly, the air whooshed out of Dave’s lungs as a shock wave blasted him from his feet.

The world seemed to move in slow motion as broken glass, concrete, and dust blasted through the room.

Dave found himself staring up at a hole in the ceiling and couldn’t move. His ears rang painfully as he lay stunned.

A soldier leaned over Dave, and a bloody gash across the soldier’s forehead dripped on him as the man yelled something he couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears.

The soldier squeezed his neck, his shoulders, and his arms, and it dawned on Dave that the soldier was checking him for injuries.

Suddenly, Dave felt a searing pain as his ears popped and his senses were flooded with the chaotic sounds of war. Men screamed for help from all directions, along with the crash of falling rocks and the chop-chop sounds of nearby helicopters.

With a sudden sense of panic, Dave lurched into a sitting position and frantically yelled, “Bella!”

He scanned the dust and rubble that was all around him, and when he spied the splash of bright-red hair, his blood turned into ice.

Ripping himself from the men who were trying to help him, he crawled to Bella and his throat tightened as he saw her bloody face. Her unblinking green eyes stared up at the ceiling, lifeless.

The lower half of her body has been crushed under the concrete slab from the collapse of the floor above.

Dave’s vision blurred as tears flowed and dripped onto her. He gently closed her eyes and wiped the blood from her face.

He leaned down, nestled his head in the crook of her neck, and released a primal yell of anguish. Dave shrugged his arm away from whoever was trying to grab him, and pulled in a deep, bitter breath. He leaned over Bella and gave her a kiss on the forehead, shuddering with grief as he thought of all the things he’d wanted to share with her. He had no words to say. Words were meaningless.

He sat back on his heels and wiped the blood off his hands.

A soldier knelt next to him, and before he could say anything, Dave turned to him and said, “I want her brought with us. She’s not going to be left behind in this shithole.”

The soldier hitched his thumb to a couple of nearby medics. “They’re here to help you, and they’ll bring her with us. We’re not leaving anyone behind. But sir, we have to leave. We can’t risk another mortar strike against this position.”

With the soldier’s help, Dave stood and stared at the broken body of the only person he’d ever loved. Even though she looked like she was asleep, some tangible thing had left her, and he felt its absence.

A burning ember inside Dave sparked into flame. His body tensed as rage replaced sorrow. A desire for revenge vaporized whatever grief he was experiencing.

Through gritted teeth, Dave swore, “Dead. I’m going to see whoever did this rooted out of whatever hole they’re hiding in, and they’ll pay.” Balling his hands into fists, Dave tasted blood in his mouth. “They’ll all die.”