Apocalyptic Visions Super Boxset (84 page)

***

The small handheld radio in Mark’s palm shook slightly as the reporter added another hundred thousand to the death toll that was well over two million due to the surrounding suburban areas effected by looting, fires, and fallout. The longer he listened to the broadcast, the harder he gripped the wooden railing out on the porch. By the time he turned the radio off, his hand ached.

“Did my dad do that?”

Mark spun around to see Sean standing sheepishly at the doorway to the balcony. “Sean, I thought you were still sleeping.”

Sean walked over to the small bench next to the railing and sat down without a word. Mark had been watching the boy closely, and it didn’t take a shrink to know that the kid hadn’t worked through everything he’d seen. Mark wasn’t sure if he ever would. He took a seat next to Sean, still rubbing his aching hand, and then put his arm around the boy. “Did I ever tell you the story of the first time I went fishing with your dad?”

Sean shook his head, the dark circles under his eyes shadowing his face. The boy was too young to have such a burden hanging over his head.

“Well, your dad had just purchased his first fishing boat, and let me tell you, he was so excited, I thought he’d fall overboard from all the running around he was doing.” Mark chuckled and managed to get a grin out of Sean. “We left before dawn that morning, and I spent most of the trip getting everything ready, while your dad was charged with trying to find the fish. And boy, did he find them.”

Mark held out his arms wide, hovering over Sean’s head. “I tell you, we caught monsters that could swallow you whole!” He bent down over Sean like he was going to eat him, and he shied away, giggling. Mark tousled the boy’s hair and smiled. “By the end of the day, we couldn’t fit any more fish on the boat. When we decided to turn back, we saw a storm heading our way. We thought we’d be able to outrun it, but it just came up too fast. The waves rolled over the side of the ship, trying to knock us over, and the wind howled like a freight train. Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder boomed like cannons as the rain tried to drown us from above.”

Sean’s eyes widened as he looked up at Mark with his mouth gaping. It was the first time Mark had seen the boy so engaged since he was taken. “Was it scary?”

Mark nodded. “Oh, it was terrifying. The seas were so rough that I could barely keep my feet under me. The boat rocked back and forth, almost tipping us over. I went down below to grab some life vests, but on the way a wave knocked me overboard. I wasn’t sure if your dad had seen me and I thought I was going to die right then and there. The waves toppled over my head and I could feel the salt water rush down my throat and fill my belly. But just when I thought it was done I felt a hand reach down and grab my arm. Your father lifted me out of the sea with one mighty pull.” He watched Sean smile and felt his own face mirror the expression. “After that I held on for dear life inside the cabin, wrapped in a blanket and shivering. But I knew your dad wasn’t going to let us sink; he was going to make sure we both made it home alive.” Mark pointed at Sean’s heart and gave it a light nudge. “That’s the type of man your father is. He saves people. He doesn’t hurt them.”

Sean looked back down at his feet, dangling off the edge of the bench. When he finally looked back up, he raised his eyebrows. “So my dad isn’t the bad guy?”

“No,” Mark answered. “He is definitely not the bad guy. Your dad is the best man I know, and he’s going to make it back to you. He always finds a way home.” Sean jumped into Mark’s lap and hugged him, burying his face in Mark’s shirt. Mark squeezed the boy back tight then finally let him down.

“What are you guys doing?” Mary stood at the doorway in her pajamas, one of her thumbs in her mouth and her other hand dragging a doll.

“You need to get back into bed as well, little missy.” Mark set Sean down off the bench and gave him a little push toward his sister. “Why don’t you tell her that story about your dad and how brave he was.”

Sean looked back and smiled then led Mary inside, leaving Mark alone on the balcony. He looked out onto the vast wilderness that was upstate New York. It was a far cry from the cities and even farther from the ocean that Mark had called home for so long. He closed his eyes and wondered where Dylan was, how he was doing, and whether he actually would make it home.

Mark didn’t mean to lie to Sean, but he understood the odds that were stacked against the boy’s father. If Dylan couldn’t deliver on what the government needed him to, then Dylan would be the poster child for every attack on the United States over the past few weeks, including the bombing of San Francisco. And once that was the case, the country would demand justice.

But Mark had to believe that Dylan would make it to the other side. He’d watched the man battle extraordinary odds, overcome more than any other person he’d met in his entire life. But the storm Dylan was currently dealing with was another beast entirely.

***

The room was quiet, yet Dylan felt all the energy focused on him. High-level security officials, scientists, engineers, people who were considered the best of the best, top experts in their fields of study, all feeding Dylan the necessary information to shut down the Taipan that Perry controlled.

One of the engineers who had helped design the weapon walked Dylan through the shutdown sequence. He was a much younger man than Dylan had expected, barely into his late twenties, but there wasn’t any denying the man’s knowledge. “You’ll have to enter the access codes in the correct order all under three minutes. If it takes any longer than that, or if you enter the wrong code in the wrong order, the security features will kick in and lock you out. If that happens, it’ll shut you out for an hour.”

Time was the most important resource at the moment, and Dylan knew that he only had a small window of opportunity to shut the device down. If he had to wait another hour after the process was started, he’d be dead. “What about any security features Perry might have installed to prevent anyone but him from tampering with the device?”

“There are three buttons at the bottom of the Taipan. If you hold down all three at the same time, it will prompt you for a verification code.” The engineer added the code to the growing list of numbers Dylan needed to memorize in the next forty-five minutes during his trip to North Dakota. They couldn’t risk giving him a cheat sheet for fear of Perry finding it. “Once you enter that code, it will restore all the original security features. From there you’ll be able to follow normal protocol.”

“Right.” Dylan set the paper down to hide the shaking in his hands, which he tucked under the table.

One of the military personal extended him three pills: one yellow, one green, and one white. The officer pinched the yellow pill between his fingers. “This is a poison gas. You crunch this up, and it’ll fill the whole bunker, killing anyone and everyone inside in thirty seconds. The green one you need to take right after to fight off the effects of the yellow pill, and trust me, you’ll want to do it quickly. The white one…” The officer trailed off then found the grit to keep going. “The white pill is the easy way out. You won’t feel a thing.” He pushed all three pills across the desk.

Dylan picked up the suicide pill. If he took that, the mission failed. He set it down, trying to drown out the thought, and picked up the yellow one. “What does the gas do?”

“It sends the individual who breathes it in into cardiac arrest and breaks down the capillaries of the body. You’ll bleed from every orifice until there isn’t any blood left.”

Dylan regretted asking and set the pill down as one of the nurses collected the remaining pills and placed them in a hidden compartment in the heel of his shoe, barely large enough to hide them.

Moringer was the last to speak with him, and once Dylan had everything he needed to disarm the guards and the Taipan, he ordered everyone out. “Mr. Turk, I don’t have to tell you what’s at stake here. What type of consequences will happen if you’re unsuccessful. Perry could lose his mind at any minute, and I’d rather not have him at the helm of a nuclear arsenal when he does. Now, we have a good idea what city he’ll hit next and we’re working on evacuations now, but it’ll take time, and if he decides to advance his deadline a lot of people are still going to die.”

Dylan squeezed his hand into a fist to control the growing tremor then forced his hand back onto the top of the table. “What about my children?”

“We’ve got the signal set up for you right here.” Moringer pulled the laptop over and let it rest on the table. He patted Dylan’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze that almost had a fatherly touch to it. “I’d like to give you as much time as you need, but—”

“I know.”

Moringer nodded and left Dylan alone. Despite the time crunch, Dylan sat there by himself for a moment, trying to gather the courage to speak to his children for perhaps the last time. Finally, he flipped the laptop’s lid open and clicked the number on the screen. A few seconds passed, and then both Sean and Mary’s faces appeared.

“Dad!” Their voices and pixelated smiles burst onto the screen at the same time, and Dylan had to force back the tears from his eyes.

“Hey, guys.” Dylan gripped the laptop with both hands. He wanted to hold them one more time, but this was as good as it was going to get. “How are you doing? Are you liking the cabin?”

Sean nodded, but Mary gave a frown. “There’s no TV, and Peter left all of my toys at home.” She fidgeted uncomfortably at the thought, but Sean tried to offer some encouragement.

“There’s lots of stuff to do outside, but Peter doesn’t really like us to be out there by ourselves. He seems really nervous. Are you gonna be coming home soon?”

“Yeah, Dad! When are you coming here?” Mary bounced up and down.

“It shouldn’t be much longer.” Dylan’s voice quavered as it escaped his throat, but he tried to hide the grief with a smile. “But you two need to listen to Peter, all right? Don’t give him too much trouble.” As much as Dylan didn’t like the man, he knew his children would be well taken care of, and with Mark watching over them, he knew at least they would have something familiar to hold onto. “And make sure you listen to Uncle Mark as well, okay? Don’t give him a heart attack; he’s old.” That caused both of them to laugh. He’d miss that the most. “You guys know how much I love you, right? I love you so much, and I always will.”

“We love you, too, Daddy,” Mary said then blew a kiss to the screen.

“Yeah, we love you too, Dad.” Sean gave a smile and put his arm around his sister. They’re going to be all right.

Moringer poked his head back into the room. “Dylan, it’s time.”

Dylan gave a nod, and Moringer disappeared. “Hey, Sean, you take care of your sister, all right? You two are family, and family is the most important thing in the world. You hear me?”

“I will.”

“Good. I have to go, but I love you. I love you so much.” Dylan pressed his fingers to his lips then pressed them on the screen. Sean and Mary waved good-bye, and then the call disconnected. Dylan sat there gazing at the reflection of his own face in the blank screen. His heart had crumbled into a million different pieces, eroding away like the sands of a beach after the beating of a thousand waves. He felt the tremor start in his stomach, and it spread to the rest of his body until he couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.

Dylan sat there alone in the conference room, sobs escaping his face and tears slipping through his fingers to dot the tabletop. He let the moment pass, and once he regained his composure, he pushed himself off the chair and walked out the door. He had one more job to do, and then it would be done.

The plane landed at the Minot AFB in North Dakota without incident. Perry had cleared the runway for Dylan’s arrival, and a cease-fire was called for what ground troops still remained on the surface level of the base. Despite Kasaika’s protest, he was still left in restraints, and Dylan was charged with taking him the rest of the way to the bunker.

Perry’s threats were simple yet effective. If anyone tried to rush the bunker’s elevator or Perry got any whiff of something fishy happening, he’d nuke another city, or maybe all of them. With San Francisco leveled to the ground, the administration wasn’t in the mood to test their limits.

The military troops that escorted Dylan and Kasaika to the base hung back by the plane, which was instructed to take off immediately once they were clear of the runway. The jet’s engines howled, and Dylan took a moment to turn back and watch his last bit of hope disappear into the clouds above, and once it was gone, the terrorists revealed themselves from the wreckage.

The carnage that was spread across the base was a combination of metal and meat that the buzzards circled, croaking out in delight as they took greedy turns swooping down and picking apart the bodies of the fallen. The stench of death ran across Dylan’s nose as one of the terrorists led him through the valley of death.

Smoke and fire still ravaged parts of the base from the previous battle, and the acrid fumes stung Dylan’s eyes as he coughed and hacked his way through the wreckage. The sole of his shoe slipped twice in puddles of blood still fresh and preserved from the summer heat.

Kasaika shouted at the terrorists that were his former comrades, but none answered him in English or their native tongue. Whatever alliances Kasaika used to have seemed to have fallen by the wayside. No doubt they suspected him of giving up some of their people since he’d been captured.

Dylan’s consciousness kept pulling his thoughts down to the light weight of the pills tucked away in the compartment of his shoe. He could feel the light bump under his heel as he walked.

The terrorist who gripped Dylan’s arm held him back as they approached the bunker’s gate and didn’t break eye contact with him until they were inside the elevator, which was only large enough to fit six of them inside at a time. They stood, huddled like sardines, and Dylan was forced right next to Kasaika. The tension suffocated the room, and Dylan found himself counting the number of guns that surrounded him, all loaded, ready to kill him if he made any type of movement they didn’t like.

The ride down felt slow until the elevator finally came to a stop, and Dylan felt the inertia of the elevator slowing and his stomach struggling to catch up. The doors opened, and Dylan took a step inside the compound. He was led through the narrow halls, and he did his best to take in his surroundings, looking for cameras, doors, rooms, anything he could use to his advantage.

Sweat rolled down the back of Dylan’s neck as the reality of the situation dawned on him. The room for error was nonexistent, and when Dylan turned the corner and saw Perry’s smiling face, the crushing weight of the tall odds stacked against him caused his knees to buckle.

“Captain, so good of you to join us.” Perry held out his arms and gestured to the rest of the room. Thirteen men surrounded him, all armed, all grimacing, and all of them with a look of death in their eyes as they watched Dylan. “Welcome to our humble abode. I’m afraid it’s no Four Seasons, but I’m sure it’s better than what Kasaika has been living in.”

Dylan was patted down and pinned against the wall. Sweat beaded on his palms and face as the terrorists’ foreign hands groped his body, and his heart raced faster as the man made his way down to the shoes. The brief moment of reprieve only lasted as long as it took the second terrorist, waving a wand across every inch of Dylan’s body, to walk over and inspect him. But after a good three minutes of examining him, the terrorists nodded to Perry, who seemed satisfied with the results.

Kasaika was also searched but remained silent as Perry slowly walked over to him then embraced him gently with both arms. Dylan scanned the room and noticed the monitors with maps of the United States, the major cities of the country represented with blinking red dots that peppered the screens like chicken pox. And then, in the center of the room, resting on a table, Dylan saw the Taipan. It looked exactly like the pictures he had been shown earlier. Now all he needed to do was find a way to disarm it before Perry had a chance to use it again.

“I see you’ve located the crown jewel.” Perry slapped Dylan on the shoulder, breaking him out of the daze that had consumed him, and Dylan felt a jolt of adrenaline rush through his body. “I’m sure Moringer and the rest of them told you all about it.” Perry ran his fingers over the top of the device, caressing it gently. “Would you like to test it out?”

Before Dylan’s face flushed red, he stepped forward, which caused the terrorists to reach for their weapons. “Perry, we need to speak in private.” If Dylan could just be alone with him long enough, he might be able to do it right here and now. His mind raced with the code sequences, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to remember them.

“Leave us.” When Perry gave the order, a stout man with a thick black beard stepped forward, whispering something in his ear. Perry turned on him violently and shoved him backward. “I said leave us! And take Kasaika with you.”

The short, portly man stood his ground a few seconds longer before finally conceding. After a few quick barks of the slurred Arabic tongue, the rest of his Egyptian brethren followed, leaving Perry and Dylan alone in silence after the door sealed them tightly into the main room.

The silence of the room was only broken by the soft beeping of the computers. Perry sat himself next to the Taipan and leaned back leisurely, propping his feet up and resting his hands behind his head. “So, what have you brought for me?”

“I’ve been giving a lot of thought to your question.” Dylan stepped lightly, mindful of the pills in his shoes now that they were so close. “I think it has something to do with my father.” He stepped behind the table, shielding his legs and feet from Perry’s view.

“Ah ha!” Perry thrust his right index finger into the air, smiling. “Impressive, Captain.” Perry removed his feet from the table and leaned forward eagerly. “But what does your father have to do with your current predicament?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.” Dylan picked at the heel of his left shoe, trying to loosen the compartment to grab the pills. “My father never had any political ties or even served in the military. Neither did my grandfather.”

“It’s not what your father did but what he didn’t do.” The playfulness vanished from Perry’s face. “You’ve heard the old proverb that the wicked prevail when good men sit and do nothing? Well, your father was that man.”

“My father never would have stood by if something bad was happening.” Dylan was surprised by the defiance in his voice. While his father hadn’t been a bad man, no one would have said he was the father of the year. Dylan couldn’t even remember a time when his dad had said “I love you.”

“You’re wrong!” Perry slammed his fist on the table, and the surprising show of strength rattled the Taipan on the desk and caused Dylan’s foot to slip from his grip and bang against the table. He froze in fear, praying Perry hadn’t heard it. “You know how many people have tried telling me that? How many people told me that growing up?” Perry jumped from his seat, walking around in angry circles, talking to himself. “It’s none of our business. We shouldn’t meddle in someone else’s affairs. Who are we to judge?” He stopped then slowly turned to Dylan. “Judgment. It’s something we all do, yet we are condemned for it as long as we are in the minority. The powers that be enjoy staying in power, Captain. That sense of purpose that comes with it is intoxicating. It drives men to lunacy, though.” Perry nodded his head emphatically. “Oh, yes, it does.”

Dylan almost had his left heel to his right hand. He picked at the compartment but couldn’t get it open. The seal was meant to be secure, and one of the soldiers had told him that it could be difficult to remove. Perry walked around the corner of the table, and Dylan was forced to quickly lower his foot.

“You will know your father’s failures,” Perry said. “But not now. Ozier!” It took less than a second for the portly man from earlier to enter once his name was called, and he was followed by the trail of terrorists, who still escorted Kasaika in his restraints.

The terrorists circled Dylan, trapping both him and Perry within. A few of them moved the center table that held the Taipan off to the side, opening up the floor space in the center of the room. Perry walked over to Kasaika then set him in the recently cleared space. He clasped his hands over Kasaika’s shoulders. “I killed your brother-in-law. It was a necessary death for our cause to continue.”

Kasaika’s nostrils flared, and his chest heaved up and down from his heavy breathing. His muscles tightened against the restraints, and he looked around to the rest of his fellow Egyptians. “This is the type of men you have become? Letting a Westerner lead you? Letting a Westerner kill one of our own!”

“We know you sold us out to the feds, Kasaika,” Perry said, his voice solemn. “A number of our groups were hit in Boston, locations that you knew about.”

Kasaika spun around, his face reddened with anger. “You left me there to die! You killed my brother-in-law! The men I gave up weren’t even true to the cause. You put our fate into the hands of an infidel!” He pointed at Dylan but couldn’t extend his hand past his waist. “You brought this upon my family!” Kasaika attempted a charge, but one of the terrorists held him back.

“You have forsaken the cause, Kasaika,” Perry said. “You will die, but before you do, you will have a chance to redeem yourself.” Perry snapped his fingers, and one of his men handed him the keys to Kasaika’s restraints. “In the eyes of your people, and of your god.” The metal cuffs around Kasaika’s wrists dropped to the floor, followed shortly by the cuffs around his ankles.

Dylan took a step back as Kasaika was now freed, rubbing the flesh around his wrists then clenching his hands into fists. Perry stepped between them and looked back and forth at the two of them as he spoke. “You will fight in hand-to-hand combat. No weapons will be used. And this will be a fight to the death. Kasaika, if you win, you shall be killed mercifully and given your burial rights. Dylan, if you win, I will tell you why you’re here.”

Perry faded back into the circle, and the surrounding terrorists grunted and shouted as the excitement grew, shifting back and forth on their legs, snarling at the scent of potential bloodshed. Kasaika eyed Dylan with laser intensity and sidestepped around to get a good angle on him, crouching low in anticipation of a strike, both his hands in the air.

Dylan mirrored Kasaika’s movements. He had no idea the type of training his opponent had, but Dylan hadn’t been in a fight since grade school, and despite the win, it wasn’t bringing much confidence to his situation. He backed into one of the terrorists on the edge of the circle and received a shove in the back that jolted him forward, closer to Kasaika, who made a lunge, which Dylan quickly sidestepped.

The consequences of this fight were much farther reaching than just the bunker. All it would take would be one false move, and Dylan’s life, along with any chance of stopping Perry, would be over. Dylan attempted to clear his mind, focusing on the fight at hand, but his children clouded his concentration. The images of their faces struck quick, like lightning.

Dylan’s heart beat through the fabric of his shirt and struggled to escape the protective casing of his ribs. The adrenaline coursing through his veins offered a layer of protection against the aches and bruises he’d accumulated over the past two weeks. His eyes were glued to Kasaika, carefully watching his movements, looking for something, anything that he could use against the man.

And then Dylan saw it: the slight twinge at Kasaika’s stomach where he had been shot the week prior on one of their missions. The wound and scar would still be fresh, and it could be Dylan’s one shot at beating him. If he could get close enough, it wouldn’t take much to bring Kasaika to his knees.

The shouts from the crowd grew intense, the storm of anger and pain rising deep beneath the surface world in their small bunker nestled under hundreds of thousands of pounds of earth. The seedy epicenter of this human volcano was ready to burst at any moment.

Kasaika suddenly swung his fist, connecting to Dylan’s right cheek, sending a hot pain through the rest of his head, and he stumbled backward. Kasaika tried to follow it up with another quick strike with his left, but Dylan veered out of the way, putting distance between himself and Kasaika.

The two continued their dance, circling around the fighting pit, Dylan trying to buy time for the throbbing pain in his temple to subside. When he finally got his feet back under him, Dylan made a charge for Kasaika, keeping his hands up to guard, but sacrificed a shot to the right side of his ribs in order to connect with the old gunshot wound on Kasaika’s stomach.

While the knife-like pain rippled through Dylan’s body, the sacrifice seemed to work as Kasaika barreled backward, clutching his stomach and curling over like the handle of a cane. Dylan stepped forward, and each time his foot connected to the floor, another stabbing spasm filled his senses. He chased Kasaika down and sent another shot into Kasaika’s stomach, who blocked it with his left arm then countered with a hard right to Dylan’s chin that sent him to the floor.