Apocalyptic Visions Super Boxset (97 page)

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The fact that HQ was already spread thin with almost every single person out on assignment didn’t make things easier for Sarah and Bryce when they were gearing up for the mission. Bryce kept a close eye on the signal to make sure it stayed in its location and sent her live updates with regard to any other information he was able to gather on Rick Demps, as well as the factory they were located in.

Equipment and personnel for the factory had been purchased by hundreds of different shell companies and dummy organizations in the effort to conceal what they were trying to build: bombs. Tuck Investments had gone to great lengths to keep all of it hidden, and the amount of money it paid the workers at the site was enough to keep anyone quiet.

The cargo plane Bryce had managed to secure her a ride on jolted from some turbulence, and Sarah’s whole seat jerked, almost knocking her out of the straps keeping her in place. The bump had caused her phone to fall out of her pocket and onto the floor. She picked it up and stared at it for a moment before opening it. Her brother’s voicemail was still saved in her messages, but she’d yet to call him back. Sarah hit his name in her contacts, and the phone rang. She knew she shouldn’t use the HQ satellite for a call like this, especially in the current climate, but she had to talk to her brother. She couldn’t let the two of them drift apart again like they had.

“Sarah? Are you all right?” Ben asked.

“Hey, Ben, yes, I’m fine.”

The drum of the plane’s engines caused the cabin to stay noisy, making it difficult to hear, but she was almost positive there was a sigh of relief that came through. “How are the kids holding up?”

“They’re fine,” Ben answered. “They’re actually having a blast. The living room has turned into a giant fort, and they managed to convince me that they had to eat all the ice cream in the freezer before it went bad. It’s like watching midget homeless people on crack run through my own house.”

“You know ice cream is the gateway drug, so make sure you keep an eye on them. Middle school is just around the corner, and you don’t want to have the ‘rebel’ kids.”

Ben laughed, and she smiled. The plane jolted again from some turbulence, and the crates around her clanked into each other.

“Where are you right now?” Ben asked. “It sounds like you’re in a wind tunnel.”

“I’m over by the marina. Had to get out of the house, walk around a bit.”

“You shouldn’t be out right now, Sarah. I’ve been checking the news on the radio. People are starting to lose it out there.”

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

A silence fell between them, and Sarah could hear the faint giggles of Ella and Matt echoing from somewhere in the house. The silence was uncomfortable, both parties unsure of what to say next and how the other would react.

“I know I haven’t been the friendliest guy lately,” Ben said. “When mom and dad—” Ben’s voice caught, and Sarah could feel the pain through the phone.

“I’m sorry, Ben. I’m sorry about how everything went down. I didn’t want any of it to happen.”

“Me either.”

Updates flashed on her computer, as the plane was only ten minutes away from the drop zone. Sarah wiped her eyes and positioned the phone away from her mouth as she gently cleared her throat. “Listen, I won’t be able to make it to dinner tonight. Something came up, but I’m still definitely coming to Ella’s play on Saturday.”

“Pending the power comes back on by then,” Ben said.

“I have a good feeling it will. I’ll talk to you later. Bye, butt munch.”

“Bye, turd-face.”

The call ended, and the tears under her eyes reached the tipping point, cascading down her face. I love you. She hadn’t said it. She hadn’t said those words in a very long time. Not to her brother. Not to her niece and nephew. Not to anyone. Those words seemed to be a foreign language to her, one her tongue couldn’t grasp in enunciation.

And it was still too soon. She wasn’t ready to say it, and her brother wasn’t ready to hear it. As nice as it was to hear from him, to know he was still worried about her, there was still the slightest hint of anger in him, and in herself as well.

Sarah had missed birthdays, holidays, family events, and too many dinners to remember because of her job. It was part of the life, one she had accepted long ago. She loved her parents and her brother, but the truth was it scared her that she might love her job even more.

The parachute collapsed behind Sarah as her boots hit the grass of a field just west of the factory. The drop location was only a few miles from the target, giving her enough space to make sure she could get a good look at the perimeter before she made any moves. She dropped the parachute straps to the ground and started the jog to the factory.

Sarah made sure to take a good look around before encroaching on the property. If Rick Demps had wanted to portray the factory as a dilapidated piece of shit, he succeeded. There wasn’t a piece of equipment in the entire yard that didn’t look broken down or one step up from never moving again.

Security personnel were scarce, but when Sarah asked for a scan of the building, Bryce found more than sixty sensors stationed from her position to the factory’s entrance. Anywhere she moved on that property, she’d trigger an alarm that would give away her position and blow any chance of retrieving the software and stopping the bombs. She needed a way in, but unless she could get another air drop in her location, which Bryce informed her she could not, she was on her own.

“Send down a scramble,” she told Bryce.

“What? Sarah, that’ll fry your communications.”

“But it’ll also destroy the sensors in the field.”

“You’ll be dark, alone.”

“And I’ll be able to get inside the factory.”

“It’s too risky.”

“Bryce.”

“Fine.”

“If you don’t hear from me within forty-eight hours—”

“I’ll talk to them personally,” Bryce answered.

There was a hardness in his voice whenever he said something that was a promise. He never had to say the words, but she knew he would get it done. “Thanks. Give me a sixty-second countdown and then let ’er rip.” She started to take the earpiece out then quickly put it back in. “Oh! And if something does happen to me, tell Mack I’m sorry I ate his sandwich out of the fridge last week.”

“That was you? But he suspended Charlie for three days.”

“Tell Charlie I’m sorry, too.” Besides the Kevlar, the only other tools she had with her were her the two 1911 pistols, six spare magazines, three C-4 clips, and two gas grenades. She set the timer on her watch and let the countdown begin. It ticked away, and when it hit zero, she gave it a couple more minutes before she took a step forward onto the property.

Either the scramble had worked or the response time from the sensors was very, very bad. Toward the back of the factory, she could see three semi trucks being loaded up with large crates. Up at the front, similar crates were being put onto ships stretched out onto the dock. That’s how Rick was getting the bombs out: land and sea.

The factory had a total of six entrances: one in the south, two in the west, two in the east, and one in the north. Once she made it to the door, she placed one hand on the handle and the other on the grip of her pistol. She twisted the handle, closed her eyes, and listened.

The distinct click of a few magazines echoed into her ear, and she let go of the door handle. The failing sensors must have alerted them that something was off. She looked back out into the shambled yard of machinery and junk, and her eyes came across one very large bulldozer, the only piece of equipment that still had all four tires. She headed for it.

Sarah pulled the wiring out of the dash and sparked the ignition, and the bulldozer cranked to life. She’d only driven one of these once previously and had ended up crashing into a bank, which Mack wasn’t very happy about despite the fact that the gang she had been chasing happened to be in said bank.

The dozer jolted forward, crushing a few bottles and cans that littered the sandy, dusty ground. She pulled the lever that lifted the massive metal plate off the ground and aimed it right at the side of the building. Sarah shifted gears, the bulldozer jolting again as it picked up speed. I do love to make an entrance.

The moment the bulldozer’s blade connected with the side of the building, both the machine and the building buckled a bit as the two forces collided. Sarah willed the dozer inside, and it wasn’t long before bullets started ricocheting off the dozer’s metal plate.

“Lucy! I’m home!”

Sarah unholstered both pistols and slid down the side of the dozer, using the thick metal plating as cover. The wall behind her was completely destroyed, leaving a gaping hole that flooded the factory floor with sunlight, affecting the aim of the guards inside. She counted twelve of them, and her eyes immediately went to the large window high above the factory floor through which a group of men in suits gawped at the scene in front of them. But it didn’t take long for the suits to scatter once Sarah fired a few shots in their direction. She knew that’s where she’d find Rick Demps, and she knew that’s where he’d have whatever computer was running Global Power.

Recoil rippled up Sarah’s arms with each squeeze of the trigger. Light flashed from the barrel with each shot, followed by the puff of smoking lead that ejected and sped toward the exposed flesh of the guards in front of her. The magazine in her left hand emptied. She sidestepped behind an old packaging machine. Her thumb hit the small button on the side of the pistol and ejected the magazine. Before it hit the floor, she had a new one in place, pivoted on her right foot, and continued firing.

Slowly, one by one, the guards retreated. It was only one step at a time, but considering there were twelve of them and only one of her—which, in her mind, equaled out to pretty much the same thing—she considered it a good starting point.

Sarah maneuvered around the packaging machine and up behind a stack of crates, where the click of the firing pin in the right pistol triggered another ejected magazine, which she quickly replaced. Only four left. She holstered her left pistol and pulled one of the C-4 charges from her side. She peeled off the magnetic seal, flicked the trigger, and chucked it into the cluster of guards. The magnetic strip homed in on one of the rifles like a heat-seeking missile. It slapped the side of the gun and, two seconds later, sent a wave of heat and human matter across the factory floor.

Sarah peeked around the side of the crate and was greeted with the sight of scattered limbs. She looked at the casualties on the ground then at the pistol in her hand. Why don’t I use those things more often? She quickly ascended the stairs toward the office in which her target was located. She placed another one of the C-4 charges against the door and stood back. The explosion evaporated most of the door and parts of the wall.

Sarah stepped through the smoke and smoldering debris, both pistols aimed at the group of suits cowering in the corner. “Gentlemen, if I can have your attention, please. You’re all under arrest. Well, I’m not technically arresting you, but I have the guns, so you should just do what I tell you.”

“Agent Hill, you’re persistence is incredibly irritating.” The voice came from the back, in another room behind the conference room she was standing in. The smoke had yet to clear, but she could only see an empty doorframe the voice was coming from. “You should leave now, Agent Hill,” the voice said, “before it’s too late.”

The smoke cleared, and a man dressed in a fine suit stepped through the doorway. She recognized the face. Rick Demps. He looked exactly like his photograph: manufactured, plastic, and cold. There wasn’t a single strand of hair out of place or a wrinkle in his suit. “Put the guns down,” Demps said.

“I don’t think you understand how a negotiation works, so I’ll start. Tell me where the laptop is, or I’m going to kill you,” Sarah said.

Rick’s polished shoes crunched over the bits of glass and drywall that littered the carpet from the earlier explosion. He made his way over to the window and pointed to the factory’s machinery below. “I’m sure you know by now what we make here.”

“I did my homework.”

“Your name is Sarah Hill. Daughter of Dave and Susan Hill.” Rick twirled the ruby studded ring around his finger. “I did my homework, too.”

A muscle spasm ran through both trigger fingers, and Sarah put two bullets in his chest, flinging Rick backward and onto the ground. He gasped for breath, but no blood leaked from his clothes.

“Smart move with the Kevlar,” Sarah said. She took a few steps forward and lifted him off the ground, pressing the gun to his forehead. “Too bad you don’t have a helmet made of the stuff. Ever play Russian roulette? Hell of a rush.”

Demps didn’t flinch. The only response she got out of him was a smile that offered no emotion other than mockery. “You have family that lives in Chicago. I have a bomb heading there now.”

“Where’s Global Power?” Sarah asked, jamming the end of the pistol into his head.

“Not concerned about your family? What was that little girl’s name again?” Demps put his finger to his lips. “Ah, yes, Ella.”

Sarah brought the side of her pistol against Demps’s cheekbone, and he fell to the floor, where he caught himself with his hands. Waves of rage washed over her, gaining momentum and eroding the sands of reason. She gripped Demps by his collar and jammed her pistol into his temple. The tension that ran through her arm, shoulder, neck, and back begged to be released. All she had to do was squeeze the trigger. Her finger wobbled over the small sliver of steel. She wanted to do it.

“Don’t want to kill me, Agent Hill?” Demps asked. “Or is that an order coming from your boss?”

“If you did your homework, then you know I’m not good at following orders.”

Sarah watched Demps’s pupils stare back at her, and his skin crinkled in the corners of his eyes as he smiled. He only broke eye contact with her for a moment, looking over her right shoulder, but it was enough to give away the person behind her. She rolled to the right, toward the shattered window, getting a glimpse at the tall man wielding a machine gun as bullets followed her, and she felt one hit the Kevlar on her chest. She continued the barrel roll and jumped out the window from the second story and crashed into a stack of crates, which spilled and broke onto the concrete flooring.

With the bullets still flying from the second story, she turned back just long enough to see the stone-faced man continue his assault. The machine gun fire thudded behind one of the conveyer belts she ducked behind. The metallic timbre finally ended, and she could hear Demps’s voice shouting.

“So what’s it going to be, Agent Hill?” The thump of helicopter blades sounded outside. “You can try and chase me, but by the time you find me, the bombs will be long gone. Or you can go after the bombs, save your family, and try and find me again. You’re going to lose either way, but at least I’m allowing you a choice.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a shit choice!”

Rick laughed, and the thump of the blades grew louder. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon, Agent Hill!”

The rumble of the trucks had already started, and they were on their way to their destinations. Bombs with enough explosive power to obliterate millions in the blink of an eye. She hesitated. For perhaps the first time in her career, she could feel the weight of indecision bring her down to her knees. But what shocked her most was the fact she was waiting for that voice in her ear, that tone that would help direct her path, whether she listened to it or not. But Bryce wasn’t with her. He was underground in a place far away from where she was. She was on her own.

Trails of dust were already being kicked up from the three trucks heading toward their destinations, carrying their lethal cargo of radioactive induced mayhem. The trucks were too far gone for her to catch up on foot, and the only working piece of machinery she managed to find was wedged into the wall of the factory. She rushed to the front of the building, where she saw the helicopter vanishing into the distance carrying Demps and his henchmen. But her eyes fell upon the gleaming sight of a pearl-finished Rolls-Royce Phantom sitting out front with a very, very nervous man behind the wheel who kept his shaking hands in the air as Sarah pushed him out.

“M-Mr. Demps said I c-couldn’t leave this car o-or h-he’ll kill me,” the driver said.

Sarah shut the door and rolled down the window as the engine roared to life. “How much does he pay to not kill you?”

“One-hundred fifty a year.”

Indignation spread across her face, and she almost shot him for just saying it aloud. “Are you kidding me? For driving a car?”

“Well, I drive more than one of his cars.”

Sarah aimed the pistol at him, which shut him up completely. “I’m this close to shooting you.” She held her index finger and thumb so close together they were almost touching. “Don’t give me any more reason to, okay?”

The driver nodded, and she tore off in the direction of the semis. The GPS navigation in the car showed that they were six miles from entering a major highway, and once they made it there, the trucks would separate to whatever destinations they were headed for.

The accelerator was pressed to the floor, and Sarah could hear the effortless speed of the car. With the trails of dust closing in from the first truck, she took a moment to look at her surroundings. The fine leather seats, the magnificent handling. She rubbed her palm against the wooden dash. I wonder if I could expense one of these on my next mission.

Tiny pieces of rock and rubble pinged against the car the closer she moved to the truck. She pulled over to the right side of the rear truck, causing the tires to rumble along the coarser dirt and rocks, the smooth ride ending as she aimed her pistol at the truck’s tires, shredding two of them into bits of rubber.