Pale Horse (A Project Eden Thriller) (6 page)

S
IMS WAS SITTING
in the command helicopter, looking at satellite images of the Montana facility that was burning about one hundred yards from where his aircraft was parked.

He knew from the moment they’d flown in that the fires had been set intentionally, so the people who had been occupying the building—the same people who had been a thorn in the side of the Project for so long—had either left the area completely or were hiding somewhere nearby. Given the surprise nature of his team’s arrival, he found it hard to believe they’d had time to leave. The satellite image revealed there was only one way in and out of the property via the ground, and the portion of his team that had come in on the road had met no one going the other way.

There was, of course, a landing strip not far from the main building. They could have flown out, but he and the others in the helicopters would have seen them for sure.

So where were they?

He studied the photo, looking for any indications of camouflaged buildings or something that might be an entrance to an underground facility. There was the large building and the smaller building, both burning now, and an exercise area that his team had already thoroughly searched. The only other structure was about half a mile away, an old barn that had housed horses. When his men checked it out, they had found no secret doorways or places where people could hide. The only thing they discovered was that someone had opened the doors, and let all the horses out. That had been a surprise. When they were flying in, one of the other helicopters had done a heat sensor sweep of the barn and determined that there’d been several horses inside. A quick check with the pilot confirmed that the door had been closed at the time.

So there was at least one person around.

Sims had ordered one of his helicopters to go in search of whoever it was, hoping if they found someone, that person might be able to point them to where his friends were.

“Dammit,” he said, tossing the photo down.

He knew they had to be here somewhere. He just
knew
it.

Outside, he heard a helicopter descending, so he pushed himself up and walked over to the open doorway. The men he’d sent in search of the person who’d opened the barn were back.

As soon as the other helicopter landed, the door flew open and the team jumped out one by one, but they had no prisoner with them. Sims stepped out of his aircraft and strode toward Donaldson, the other team leader.

“I take it you didn’t find anyone,” he said. The mission had been on radio silence since before they flew in.

“Actually, we did.”

Sims looked around. “I don’t see anyone.”

“He’s dead.”

A pause. “He was dead when you found him?”

“No. He was armed. We tried to stop him, but when he shot at us we had no choice but to return fire.”

“I clearly remember telling you to bring anyone you find back alive.”

“I understand that, sir, but I wasn’t going to let my team get shot.”

“No one said you couldn’t shoot him, but you didn’t have to
kill
him.”

“He moved.”

“What?”

“He was running away. I tried to hit him in the shoulder, but he moved to the side so it went through his chest.”

“
You
did it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sims looked away, reining in his anger. Donaldson was one of his top soldiers. If he said the man moved into the bullet, then Sims had to believe him. Dammit. It was still a lost opportunity.

“Was he alone?” he asked.

“We spent some time looking around, but found no signs of anyone else.” Donaldson paused. “There is something that might be helpful, though.”

“What?”

Donaldson reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “This was on him. According to the call log, he used it a minute or two before we all arrived here.”

__________

T
HE FIRE AT
the dormitory was almost out. Matt studied the camera feed, and was satisfied that the auxiliary Bunker entrance in the building’s basement was now fully inaccessible. And though the Lodge was still burning above them, the fire had passed the point where it could be extinguished in time to find the main Bunker entrance there.

Now all they had to do was wait until the Project Eden assault team left, then inessential personnel could use the emergency tunnel to get away.

Matt would, of course, stay. If Project Eden had indeed triggered Implementation Day, then he needed to be here in the control room where he could do what he could to put a dent, however small, into its plans.

But had they triggered it or not? Given the attack squad aboveground, it seemed pretty damn likely, but he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. The options still open to them would work only once—if that. If he set off the warnings and Implementation had not begun, the Resistance would be like the boy who cried wolf when it really did happen.

One time. One shot. They had to get it right.

For the last hour, Christina and several other communication officers had been trying to contact Resistance members on the outside who were near one of the shipping containers that had already been identified as suspect. They had reached a few people, and sent them to check out the boxes, but no one had reported back yet.

“Matt,” his sister called from across the room. “Your phone.”

“What?”

“Your cell phone. It’s ringing.”

He walked over to where he’d left it on one of the tables. The name on the display read
J. HAYES
. Why was Jon calling? Protocol in this situation was that all communication should be severed. Had something happened to Brandon?

He punched the
ACCEPT
button. “Jon?”

There was a pause. “No.”

Matt froze. “Who is this?”

“You can call me Sims. I assume you’re…Matt?”

“Who are you?”

“I just wanted to let you know that you and your friends can only hide for so long, and we’ll still be here when you come out.”

The assault team. They must have found Jon and Brandon.

Matt paled. “What did you do to them?”

Another pause. “I think we’ve talked enough. Call me back when you’re ready to discuss surrender.”

The line went dead.

“What is it?” Rachel asked.

“That was someone from the assault team. He was using Jon’s cell phone.”

“Jon’s?” Her confusion lasted only a second before it morphed into fear. “What about Brandon?”

“He didn’t say anything about either of them, but we probably should assume—”

“No, no. No assumptions,” she said. She grabbed his arm. “We need to send someone out there to get them back.”

“You know we can’t do that. If we do, we’ll expose our location and get
everyone
killed.”

“Brandon’s just a boy. You promised Ash you’d watch him!”

“What’s going on?” The voice came from across the room.

They both turned to find Josie Ash standing in the doorway.

“I heard you say Brandon’s name. Did you find him? Did something happen?” she asked.

“We don’t know anything at this point,” Matt told her, but it was hard to sound convincing.

Josie stared at him, her eyes wide. “You said he’d be okay. You said Mr. Hayes would take care of him.”

“Get her out of here,” he whispered to Rachel.

Rachel stepped over to Josie.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go talk.”

The two had barely left the room when Christina looked up from her monitor. “Matt. Dale Porter just called in. He drove by one of the containers in San Francisco. It’s open, and it’s humming.”

The entire room went silent.

So this was it.

The end of the world.

Matt said, “I want a second confirmation from somewhere else. Preferably out of the country. As soon as we have that, don’t wait for me to say anything. Initiate WC.”

WC was not some tricky code. Its meaning was simple and clear.

Worst Case.

It would be another three hours before a second confirmation—this one from Copenhagen, Denmark—came in.

__________

S
IMS HUNG UP
the cell phone and smiled. The man on the other end of the line had said, “What did you do to
them
?”

He looked over at Donaldson. “You’ve got yourself a second chance. There’s at least one more person out there. Find whoever it is and bring them back.”

“Yes, sir.” Donaldson turned and headed quickly back to his squad.

Sims stepped over to the doorway of his helicopter. “So?” he asked.

Inside was an impressive array of communications gear. Included among the equipment was a device that could track cell phone calls and pinpoint the location of both the originator and the receiver.

The technician manning the console was named DeFassio. He kept his attention focused on one of the monitors for a few seconds longer, then looked over.

“You were correct, sir. They’re right here.”

9

YANOK ISLAND

12:51 PM CENTRAL STANDARD TIME

A
T TIMES THE
snow whirling around them became so thick it seemed as if they were walking through a never-ending wall of white.

Several times Ash was sure they were lost, but then they’d reach a landmark Olivia’s man, Kessler, had pointed them toward, and head to the next.

“Which way now?” Ash yelled above the wind.

They had just reached the latest landmark, a small hill with an outcropping of rocks that was quickly becoming covered with snow.

“There’s a little gully up ahead. Should be in that direction about a hundred yards.” Kessler motioned ahead and slightly to the right. “The camp will be right on the other side.”

“You need to rest or can we keep going?”

“Keep going,” Kessler said.

They almost missed the gully, their path having veered a little too much to the right, but Chloe spotted their mistake, and guided them back on track.

As soon as they reached the far end, Kessler pointed to the left. “There. See it?”

A canvas drop that had been anchored to the side of the hill was now flapping in the wind, exposing everything that had been underneath it to the storm.

“I thought you said the others were going to be here,” Chloe said.

Kessler looked confused. “They’re supposed to be. That was the plan.”

“Then where the hell are they?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Ash asked.

“They might have made for the boat.”

“Boat? The island’s iced in.”

“Icebreaker,” Kessler said. “About a mile offshore.”

“You hiked in?”

Kessler nodded.

“So you think they went back there?” Chloe asked.

“It’s the only other place they could have gone.”

“What happens when they reach the boat? Will they wait for you?” Ash asked.

Kessler was silent for a second. “They might think I’m dead.”

Since the three of them had been in the tunnel when the explosions started, Ash was willing to bet that’s exactly what the others thought. They probably decided the sooner they got off the island, the better.

Chloe leaned close to Ash. “We’ve got to get there before they leave.”

“I know,” he said. The plane they had arrived on had crashed upon landing, so it was very likely that the only way they’d be able to get off the island was on that ship. He turned to Kessler. “Do you know where the icebreaker is?”

Another tired nod. “Southeast. Straight out.”

“Then unless you want to die here, we need to keep moving.”

Kessler nodded wearily. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Good.”

“Hold on a second.” Kessler staggered over to the remains of the camp. “There should be a GPS tracker here if it hasn’t blown away. We’ll need that.”

After a minute of rooting around, he came up with the device. He turned it on and studied the screen.

“Okay, that way,” he said, pointing into the storm.

“No,” Ash said. He nodded to his left. “This way first. We have a stop to make.”

__________

R
ED CHECKED ON
the pilot again. Gagnon was still out, his temperature warm, but not too hot. The fever had to be from an infection caused by one of the wounds the pilot had received when their plane crashed on the ice just off Yanok Island. In addition to the cut on Gagnon’s head, the man had at least two broken ribs and a deep gouge on his leg. Red had done what he could, keeping the pilot’s ribs wrapped, changing the bandages as often as necessary, but his biggest concern was that Gagnon had suffered internal damage. If that was the case, there was absolutely nothing Red could do.

What the man needed was a doctor, but Red was beginning to think they were both going to die right there in the makeshift shelter the Resistance advance scouts had used when they’d first discovered Bluebird’s location.

It had been over eight hours since Ash and Chloe left them there. That in itself might not have been cause for concern, but just over two hours earlier, the ground had shaken violently several times. Not earthquakes, Red thought. Explosions. He only hoped that if Ash was the one who set them off, he’d been able to do it in time to stop the monsters from Project Eden.

Gagnon groaned, turning his head first one way, then the other.

Red grabbed the pot of warm water he’d heated earlier, poured some onto a piece of cloth, and pressed it lightly against Gagnon’s lips. Squeezing, he let some of the water drip into the man’s mouth. This seemed to calm him.

Outside the wind howled past the shelter. Red glanced over at the doorway, making sure nothing had blown away, and nearly jumped when the cover moved to the side and someone stepped in.

Ash. Chloe entered right after him, then a man Red didn’t recognize.

“I wasn’t sure if you guys made it,” Red said as he hopped to his feet.

“We weren’t sure ourselves there for a little while,” Ash said.

“Did you find it?”

“Bluebird? Yeah, we found it.” There was hesitation in Ash’s voice.