Wasteland Rules: Die Fighting (The World After Book 4) (9 page)

   Reinhardt realized what was happening seconds
before impact and tried to let go, but it was too late. They smashed into the
ground at an incredible rate of speed. The impact was tremendous and created a
crater several hundred meters wide. The blast from the impact flattened
everything within another thousand meters and shattered every window within a
kilometer. Stefan stood and climbed out of the crater. He was amazed when
Reinhardt actually began to move. That was impossible; the force of the impact
should have pulped him.

   “Don’t worry, I’m dead.” Reinhardt’s voice said
from the suit’s speakers. “But I put in a failsafe that automates the suit
after I die. Surprise!”

   Electronic laughter issued from the suit’s speakers
as the now automated exo-suit climbed from the crater leaving a man shaped
impression behind.  Stefan had thrown everything he had at Reinhardt and he had
killed him, but now it looked like the suit was going to destroy him giving
Reinhardt the last laugh. He was determined that it wouldn’t end this way, with
him so close to regaining his empire. Stefan looked around frantically trying
to find anything he could use as a weapon when he noticed something.

   Little pieces of metal debris thrown into the air
by the impact were falling down on the suit and the magnetic field wasn’t
repelling them. He fired a slug at the suit to test if the shield was in
operation and the slug was deflected.  Apparently the shield was only activated
when it detected a threat. Stefan had assumed it was a dome or a bubble that
repelled metal, but it made sense that it wasn’t. The shield couldn’t
constantly be on, that would take too much power. And it couldn’t activate in
the presence of metal or everything would be triggering it. All he had to do
was hit the suit with something that the field wouldn’t or couldn’t repel.

   He considered non-metallic objects like concrete,
but they wouldn’t damage the suit. He needed something that wouldn’t shatter
and that could penetrate the dense alloy armor. Maybe he could use a piece of
rebar like a spear and slowly force it through the shield like they did with
the shields in Dune. Snatching up a long piece of rebar from the shattered
facility ceiling Stefan leapt towards the suit. The suit reacted as Reinhardt
had the first time jumping forward to meet him. Only this time Stefan avoided
contact by twisting to the side, and then he stabbed at the suit with the
rebar.

   The suit reacted remarkably quickly and used the
laser to slice off the rebar as it struck at the suit. It rotated quickly and
swung at Stefan with the claw. He barely avoided the attack and danced
backwards. Well that hadn’t worked, time for something else; something more
outside the box. Maybe he could overload the shield, give it too much metal to
repel. Launching himself into the air, Stefan headed for the front of the facility.

   The suit gave chase and rounded the corner of the
building as Stefan landed near one of the fallen robots. Digging his fingers
into the frame of the robot to gain purchase, he fired his jet pack. It
strained mightily and at first he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to lift it;
but slowly he and the robot began to lift off the ground. He dragged the robot
corpse into the air just the suit arrived. It fired the laser at him, but
Stefan used the robot as a shield. The laser sliced of pieces of the robot as
it tried to spear Stefan.

   The weight of the robot prevented him from gaining
much height but he didn’t need much. Flying over the animated suit, he dropped
the robot on top of it. The shield flared into existence at the detection of
the attack. The robot corpse halted in the air over the automated suit. The
shield struggled to maintain the massive hunk of metal and Stefan could see it
flickering as it was stressed to its limit. The suit merely stood there
seemingly unconcerned.

   Landing in front of the automated suit he raised
his arm to fire the rail gun. Hopefully it still worked despite the damage. The
suit now seemed to recognize the danger and desperately tried to get out from
under the robot corpse, but it was too late. Stefan fired a steady stream of
high density slugs from the rail gun at the automated suit. The first dozen or
so slugs were deflected, but then the field failed and the next dozen got
through. He could see the slugs rip into the suit right before the robot corpse
collapsed on it.

   Taking no chances this time, Stefan moved quickly
to make sure the suit was indeed finished. Again, to his amazement it was not.
It was already stirring under the robot, trying to shift the massive weight off
of it. Seeing that the suit was pinned, Stefan grabbed it by the head and used
his cutting torch to cut the head of the suit off. When he severed the “spinal
column” of the suit it finally went limp. He held the head up and roared in
triumph like an ancient warrior.

   With Reinhardt removed, he could now take back control
of the Collective. He would scavenge a few upgrades from the suit and then
re-enter the facility. Once he had downloaded his virus into the main control
system every member of the Collective would come back under his control. Then
it was just a matter of reasserting the Collective’s place in the world. And
this time he wanted all of it, not just a small piece. The Collective “civil
war” and the destruction of the LINC and Olympus Station had weakened the
Collective greatly, but he could rebuild. Learning from his mistakes it could
be even better than before. And then he could get his revenge on Storm and his
protégé, Rora.

Ellsworth Air Force Base, Rapid City, South Dakota

September 14, 2029

   The trip to South Dakota was uneventful for Derek
and Rora. The plane had sustained minor damage but was still serviceable after
a few quick repairs. They had detoured through C.C.A. and N.R.T. territory
rather than taking a direct route that would have sent them through contested
air space or across U.S.T.G. territory. They were low on fuel when they landed
at the abandoned airfield. Hopefully someone could supply them some fuel so
they could head to their next destination, wherever that was.

   Derek examined the Air Force base through the
windows as they slowly rolled to a stop. It looked completely abandoned, and
for good reason. There were signs of a battle throughout the base. Hangars were
reduced to scorched rubble and there were burned out vehicles scattered about. The
control tower was missing its roof and looked to have been hit by multiple
strikes. The runway was still in good condition but weeds had overrun almost
everything else.

   They taxied to a hangar that was only partially
destroyed and pulled inside. It would provide some cover from the elements and
any prying eyes. They waited for the ride the Voice promised them was coming as
a dust storm whipped up outside, reducing visibility to mere feet. Derek
started to get nervous as they waited. This was a perfect ambush site. They
were isolated and trapped in a remote location with no idea of what was out
there.

   He was getting ready to go outside and look around
when an armored Chevy Suburban SUV with a heavy duty brush guard and painted a
drab tan pulled up. Four men in tan BDUs and balaclavas that covered their
faces got out. Body armor covered their torsos and goggles covered their eyes
giving them an insectoid appearance. FN P90 PDWs hung from slings attached to
their body armor. The P90s were expensive guns similar to a submachine gun that
had a bullpup design, meaning that the clip and guts of the gun were behind the
grip and under the stock. They had a high rate of fire and were good in tight
situations.

   The four men did a quick sweep of the area and then
took up defensive positions around the SUV. Derek noticed they were watching
the plane as much as they were watching the surrounding area. After a minute
another identical SUV pulled up and a man in a suit got out. The man was of
very average appearance and looked like every businessman Derek had ever seen. He
waved towards the plane for them to come out and opened the rear door of the
SUV.

   “Let’s go.” The Voice said in Derek’s ear. “That’s
our ride.”

   “Do you trust them?” Derek asked suspiciously.

   “Not really, but their interests align with ours.
So I don’t think they will do anything tricky.” The Voice said reassuringly.

   “We’ll see. So far everyone has been trying to use
me. Including you.” Derek pointed out. “And some of them have been less than
friendly about it.”

   “Fair enough.” The Voice agreed. “But you really
don’t have much of a choice.”

   “Come on, let’s go.” Rora interrupted anxiously.

   Derek frowned, but he followed her out of the plane
anyway. The Voice was right; if they wanted revenge on Zabrowski the CIA seemed
like their only option. Still, the CIA had a reputation for being shady prior
to the Collapse and there was no reason to believe that had changed. Because of
that he kept his hand on his Glock as they walked down the plane steps. He had
left the carbine in the plane so he didn’t alarm the CIA gunmen, but he had
kept everything else. Rule #21, never give up your weapon.

   The man in the suit frowned when he saw they were
still armed, but Derek simply glared at him until the man looked away. They all
climbed into the second SUV and it quickly drove out of the airfield. Looking
back Derek could see the gunmen from the original SUV were staying at the
partially demolished hangar. They were guarding the plane, which was good, but
they were also capable of keeping it from leaving.

   So far, this little adventure could go either way.
The CIA seemed willing to let them come have a conversation, but it also seemed
like they were hedging their bets on how that conversation might go. They rode
in silence, Rora’s only attempt at conversation was thwarted by a blank stare
from their escort. Derek shrugged at her when she looked at him questioningly.
He was perfectly happy to wait until they were talking to somebody with some
authority. And he wanted to see what their capabilities were before he decided
to share anything they knew.

   The ride led out of the airfield and through Rapid
City. There were more signs of a massive battle in and around the base. Derek
had heard a rumor that the base commander had tried to extract concessions from
the U.S.T.G. in exchange for turning over the fleet of bombers housed here. He
had also heard that the commander had been executed in front of his surviving
troops after U.S.T.G. forces had overrun the base. The B-1Bs housed there were
in use by the U.S.T.G. Air Force so he believed the rumor. The battle damage
was just further proof it had indeed happened.

   The city, which was small prior to the Collapse,
looked completely abandoned. Weeds were rampant and many of the buildings had
collapsed from neglect. No animals or Drinkers roamed the ruins, probably
because there was no food for them. The weather in the northern states and
Canada had grown much harsher during the Aftermath and the lack of food combined
with the weather had driven all surviving animals further south.  All the
people had probably done the same.

   Thirty minutes later they pulled into the entrance
of the Black Hills National Forest. Derek was unsurprised. Based on the Voice’s
previous mention of Mount Rushmore and the location of the airbase, he had
assumed the base would be nearby the national monument. It was something he had
always wanted to visit but never had a chance to do so. Work had always gotten
in the way. The forest surrounding the mountain was much less impressive than
it would have been before the Collapse. The trees had the same burnt matchstick
appearance that almost all trees did now and many had been blown over during
the frequent dust storms.

  He was a little surprised when they kept driving
until they were at the base of Mount Rushmore itself. The monument was still
impressive and he took a minute to admire it. It was likely nothing like this
would ever be created again. Rora stared at it in fascination, and he realized
that she had probably only seen it in pictures on her computer, which didn’t truly
convey its grandeur.  The driver took a barely visible road around the base of
the mountain and then they entered a cleverly concealed canyon kept behind two
impressive security gates.

   The SUV dipped down and then passed underground.
They drove for a few more minutes and Derek recognized they must be under the
mountain. He laughed a little to himself at the realization that the rumors of
a secret government base in Mount Rushmore were real. Score one for the
conspiracy theorists. That was classic government thinking. If everyone thought
there was a base there, we might as well put one there. Hide in plain sight if
you will.

   A large steel door slid shut behind them and the
SUV stopped in what was obviously a garage of some sort. Armored SUVs similar
to theirs as well as larger armored vehicles were parked all around, and more
men in tan BDUs worked on and around them. Derek saw a couple of Strykers, an
MRAP, and a number of SUV technicals. Crates of parts and tool carts lined the
walls, which looked like they had been carved out of the stone.

   The SUV parked and their escort gestured for them
to get out. They did, and were immediately surrounded by CIA gunmen. All of the
gunmen had their weapons aimed at Derek and Rora and they looked ready to use
them. He instinctively reached for his gun and only hesitated when the Voice
spoke.

   “Take it easy Derek.” The Voice hissed. “It’s
merely a security check.”

   “Doesn’t look like it to me.” He subvocalized back.
“I’m not giving up my weapons. I don’t trust them.”

   Their escort finally spoke. “Just let us check your
neck.” He demanded softly and calmly.

   Derek’s eyes narrowed slightly. That was an
interesting request. It indicated they were very familiar with the Faceless and
wanted make sure he wasn’t one. It also indicated there were not any female
Faceless. Good to know. Lifting his hand from his weapons and raising them up
slightly, he nodded at their escort. The man slowly and carefully moved behind
Derek and examined his neck. Apparently satisfied, the man waved off the gunmen
and they retreated but didn’t leave completely.

   “Follow me.” Their escort said softly and headed
towards a large security door set into the rock wall.

   The gunmen fell in behind them and kept a watchful
eye on the visitors, but they did keep their weapons pointed down instead of at
Derek and Rora. The door slid open with a slight hiss as they approached. Derek
noted cameras and sensors mounted in the ceiling tracking them as they walked.
The group passed through the door, which was at least a foot thick, and entered
a large hallway.

   They hadn’t gone through any intrusive security
except for the check of his neck, which Derek thought was odd. It was possible
the cameras and sensors provided enough of a check of Derek and Rora’s
identities, but they hadn’t tried to disarm them. That indicated a high level
of trust or more likely, that for whatever reason, the CIA wasn’t afraid of
them. Either of which would be strange.

   Their escort led them through a series of twisting
hallways, none of which went more than twenty feet without turning. Nothing was
marked and Derek wondered how their escort unerringly knew which way to go. The
complex was designed like the ancient cities were to prevent enemies from a
direct assault on the center. The twisting passageways were like a maze and
were designed to confuse attackers. He knew Rora was memorizing their route,
but it didn’t really matter. If they needed to mount an escape from the CIA,
their mission was a failure.

   He didn’t like being a victim of fate, his destiny
determined by someone other than himself; but he had no choice. So Derek
followed along patiently until they came to a door just like any of the dozens
they had passed. The escort stopped and waved his hand at the plain gray steel
door. It hissed open to reveal a sumptuously appointed board room inside. Plush
leather chairs surrounded a massive mahogany table with intricate carvings and
decoration. The escort gestured for them to go inside.

   Derek and Rora entered and the door hissed shut
behind them, leaving their escort and the gunmen outside. The room was
decorated with paintings and sculptures, but Derek had no interest in them. He
settled down into the chair at the head of the table and prepared to wait. This
was a typical tactic to make your “guest” wait to establish dominance and make
them anxious to talk. That was why he picked the chair at the head of the
table; he could play those games too.

   Derek had closed his eyes briefly when he heard
Rora gasp. He opened them to see her examining a painting on the wall. She had
a shocked look on her face and her eyes were wide.

   “What’s wrong?” He asked her.

   “This is an original Picasso…” She said almost
reverentially.

   “So?”

   “I think all of the art are originals.” Rora
informed him quietly. “Most of this was believed destroyed during the Collapse
and Aftermath. This collection is priceless.”

   “Hunh.” Derek replied. “Leave it to the CIA to
collect art while the world burns.”

   “It wasn’t exactly like that.” A voice said haughtily.

   Derek looked behind him to see that a previously
hidden door had opened revealing a trim middle aged man dressed in an expensive
blue pinstriped business suit and shoes. The suit would have cost thousands
before the Collapse and it looked brand new. Apparently the CIA had the ability
to create expensive new clothes while the rest of the world struggled just to
eat.

   The man was a little over six feet tall with a
hawkish nose and the wide rimmed glasses that were trendy just prior to the
Collapse. His arrogant bearing and clothing screamed money. His accent said
northeast and probably Ivy League school. From Derek’s experience that was
pretty typical for CIA leaders. He instantly disliked the man.

   “Overton Thornberg the Third.” The man said as he
extended a hand to Derek. “Director of the CIA.”

   “Whatever is left of it you mean?” Derek said
sarcastically as he ignored the man’s offered hand.

   “I see your reputation is deserved.” The man
sniffed as he circled the table to stand next to Rora. “They are magnificent
aren’t they?” He asked her.

   “Breathtaking. I never thought I would see one in
person.” She replied nicely. “How did you get them all?”

   “We rescued some of them from an unscrupulous art
dealer who had stolen them during the Collapse and was trying to sell them.”
The director informed her. “The rest we acquired through various means.”

   “Right.” Derek sneered. “You are just saving them
for humanity.”

   “Something like that.” Thornberg said with an
ingratiating smile.