Extinction Evolution (The Extinction Cycle Book 4) (27 page)

“T
he Variants will smell you before you ever see them, I fucking guarantee you,” Horn said. He folded his tattooed arms across his chest. “And they will see you in the dark, so there’s no sense hiding. If you run, they will catch you.”

“That’s why we’re here to train you before you go out there,” Beckham said. He stood between Chow and Horn on the deck of the
George Washington
. Apollo sat in front of Beckham’s boots, watching a sailor patrol the starboard side of the vessel with another German Shepherd. Garcia, Tank, and Thomas stood to their right. The two teams shared more experience fighting the Variants than all the other soldiers in the entire strike group combined. At least, that’s what Garcia kept telling Beckham.

It was dusk, but darkness was already closing in. The blinking red lights of the
GW
fleet sparkled on the horizon. The two dozen Marines standing before Team Ghost and the Variant Hunters listened attentively. They were divided into six four-man strike teams. Each would be inserted into a different city.

“What we’ve told you about the Variants will help once you’re in enemy territory, but rely on your training and never, ever drop your guard,” Beckham continued. He nodded at Garcia, and the Marine stepped forward.

“Many of you know who I am. You’ve heard of my team, the Variant Hunters. Truth is, we’ve become the hunted. I’ve seen about every type of those freaks. From the bony thin ones to the massive muscular beasts that look like Kimbo fucking Slice. I’ve seen them run up the surface of buildings and leap ten feet into the air. Hell, I’ve even seen them puke goo that can cauterize a wound or plaster a human prisoner to the wall.”

“The Variants are monsters, and make no mistake,” Garcia continued. “They aren’t easy to kill. They shouldn’t be underestimated. Many of you have heard they’re mindless beasts, but they aren’t. They are evolving, and they can communicate. They can even set traps.”

Garcia regarded Team Ghost. “Our Delta Force friends have seen the same thing. Using our experiences we have put together a strong plan that should give you the best chance of completing Operation Condor.” He looked at the deck and then over the water, his stare distant as though lost in thought.

Beckham took over. “Working together, we’re going to teach you to survive when you go out there. But before we get into details and assignments, are there any questions?”

He scanned the faces. Most were young, but there were several older Marines in the group. None of these men looked like they had any combat experience. The Marines Beckham had fought with at Fort Bragg or Plum Island were a rare commodity, and the Timbos and Rodriguezes of the world were mostly dead. Fitz was one of the last surviving Marines with the experience to spearhead a mission like this, and that’s exactly why Beckham had requested Lieutenant Rowe let the Marine train the troops at Plum Island.

A pale Marine with the saggy face of a bulldog raised his hand. “How many of those things will be protecting the children?”

“Garcia, you want to answer that?” Beckham asked.

“Hundreds. Maybe more.”

The whistle of the ocean breeze was the only sound that followed.

Another Marine raised a hand a few moments later. “When you say they communicate, do you mean talk?”

“Some can, yes. It’s likely that the Variants protecting the children will display a higher intelligence,” Garcia said.

A man that could have passed for a teenager blurted out, “And how are we supposed to get past them? Do you expect us to just run into the lairs, snag a kid, and call in for evac?”

“No,” Beckham said. “Each team will enter their city at 1100 hours tomorrow. The Variants are least active during this time period. Squad leaders will be assigned a direct route to known lairs.

“As I already said, the Variants are capable of setting traps, but so are we. And that’s exactly what the plan is. We’re going to use air support to lure them out of their lairs. Intel indicates the juveniles rarely come out, but the adults do. Before teams sneak through the sewers, we will launch a decoy to draw those adults out. Then the flyboys are going to hit them with everything they got left. When that happens, each team will proceed to the lairs, put on gas masks and deploy smoke grenades inside. Your primary weapon will be equipped with UV lights to distract the Variants. Between the smoke and the light, you should have the cover you need to sneak inside and tranquilize one of the offspring.”

“That’s the
strong
plan?” the young man said. “You want us to lob some smoke grenades in there and kidnap one of their kids?”

“You got a better one, Marine?” Garcia asked. 

Chow spat his toothpick on the deck and brushed a strand of black hair from his face. He wasn’t a man of many words, and hadn’t said a single one during the briefing, but Beckham could see Chow had something to say now. Beckham nodded his approval, and Chow crossed his arms, something he always did before he spoke.

“We’ve all survived what many would consider impossible odds,” Chow said. “But we came back. Not without scars, and not without nightmares. But we came back. You will too, if you stick to the plan.”

The young Marine with all the questions looked at his boots. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t look convinced. Most of these men shared the same frightened, uncertain gaze. They knew what they were up against, and it was Beckham’s job to reassure them this wasn’t a suicide mission. Rarely did soldiers run into the fray without confidence their leaders inspired.

“Chow’s right,” Beckham said. “This is a solid plan. And you all have the advantage of knowing how the Variants hunt. Something we never had when we were out there.” 

The clank of boots commanded Beckham’s attention to a ladder wrapping down to the deck. Lieutenant Davis strode down the steps and joined them.

“Master Sergeant,” she said. “Lieutenant Brett is going to be executed in a couple of hours. Vice President Johnson told me to inform you. It’s up to you if you’d like to observe.”

“With all due respect, Lieutenant, thanks, but no thanks. I have work to do. These men aren’t ready,” Beckham replied in a low voice.

“Understood,” Davis said. She took a step back and waited for the training to continue with an interested eye.

When Beckham turned, the young Marine was staring at him again, his jaw partially open like he couldn’t believe he was being thrown into the meat grinder.

“Any further questions?” Beckham asked.

The moon was out now, the rays bathing the
GW
in soft light. In the pale glow, the Marines already looked like ghosts. This time tomorrow, Beckham doubted many, if any, would still be alive.

K
ate sat next to President Ringgold at the small lab station she shared with Dr. Carmen. They were in one of the three outer non-secure sections where research was conducted. Dr. Yokoyama and Dr. Carmen were inside the secure zone, waiting on test results from a recent Variant blood sample.

The room was chilly even with the heavy Navy sweatshirt Kate wore. She turned on her monitor and keyed in her credentials, anxious to talk to Ellis. It had been several days since they’d spoken, and she still hadn’t told him about Lieutenant Brett.

The dark monitor warmed and a face Kate hardly recognized emerged. While the display was half the size of her monitor at Plum Island, she could still see Ellis’s features clearly—and he looked awful. His black hair was tangled and matted in several places. His blue shirt was rumpled, and he had grown a thin mustache above his five o’clock shadow. The cheery brown eyes she had grown accustomed to were dull and void of emotion.

“Good evening, President Ringgold and Dr. Lovato,” Ellis said.

“Ellis. How are things there?” Kate asked.

“Okay.”

“Don’t lie to me. You look like you haven’t slept for days.”

“I haven’t, but I’m fine. Have you managed to contact other labs?”

President Ringgold exchanged a worried glance with Kate.

“We’ve connected with a few, but there aren’t many out there,” Kate said. “Europe was hit hard, and so were the Middle East and Asia. South America, Australia, New Zealand. It’s all the same.”

“Jesus,” Ellis said. “Worse than I thought. And Italy? What about...?”

A lump formed in Kate’s throat. She swallowed it and changed the subject. “So why do you look like you haven’t slept? Is something wrong with the bioreactors?”

Ellis raked his hands through his hair. “All twelve batches are fine. We’re on schedule to finish in a little over a week, but I am going to need help encapsulating the chemotherapeutics and conjugating them with the antibodies. When do you think you’ll be back?”

“I’m not sure.” Kate regarded Ringgold with a rueful glance. “I think Vice President Johnson wants me to stay here to study the juvenile Variant that they will capture.”

Ringgold reached up and ran her finger over the American Flag lapel on her collar. It was the second time Kate had seen her do it since they landed on the
GW
.

“I’m sure Dr. Yokoyama and his staff can handle that,” Ringgold said after a moment of silence. “If Dr. Ellis needs you, then I’ll authorize your trip back to Plum Island.”

Kate hadn’t told Ringgold about her relationship with Beckham, and she certainly hadn’t told her about the child she was carrying, but she had a feeling Ringgold already knew. Selfishly, she wanted to stay on the ship with him, but finishing Kryptonite was more important. He would understand, as long as she was safe.

“Okay,” Kate said. She glanced back at the monitor. “How are Tasha and Jenny? Are Meg and Riley taking good care of them?”

“The girls are fine. Meg’s been looking after them since Riley’s training troops here with Fitz.”

“And the soldiers there are treating you well?” Ringgold asked.

Ellis nodded. “No complaints.”

Kate scrunched her brows together. “So why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’m just worried, Kate.”

“I can see that, but about what specifically?”

Ellis bowed his head slightly. “If Kryptonite doesn’t work on the offspring, then what the hell are we going to do?”

“Vice President Johnson said we will find another way,” Ringgold said.

“With all due respect, President Ringgold, we’ve heard that from every general since day one,” Ellis said.

Kate was taken back by the outburst. She hadn’t ever seen her partner like this. There was no trace of the scientist she knew on screen. No smile or enthusiastic commentary. The lump in Kate’s throat climbed higher.

“Anything else?” Ellis asked.

Shaking her head, Kate said, “No. That’s all. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” She went to shut off the feed, but remembered Brett. “Wait, Ellis.”

He looked back at the camera.

“There’s something I haven’t told you. Lieutenant Brett. He’s
here
.”

Ellis managed a weak smile. “Bullshit. That’s a good one though. I needed that. Thanks for the chuckle.”

“Dr. Lovato isn’t lying,” Ringgold said. “We saw him. But he’s going to be put down in a few hours.”

Kate liked Ringgold’s choice of words. They sounded a lot better than
executed
. No matter what they called it, they were doing the right thing. Brett was no longer a man. He was an animal. But Kate did have a sliver of empathy for him. He had suffered unimaginable pain for over fifty years, all because of Colonel Gibson’s dream of a super soldier. It was more than anyone should ever have to suffer. She had to remind herself he was a liability. Every day he still had breath in his lungs, he was a threat to humanity.

Ellis inched closer to the camera, staring incredulously. “You have got to me kidding me. How is that even possible? He would be over seventy years old.”

“Seventy-five, to be exact,” Kate said. “Colonel Wood kept him alive all of these years.”

Ellis ran a thumb across his mustache. “Guess nothing surprises me anymore. Anyway, I’ll see ya in a few days, Kate. Good night.”

“Good night,” Kate said.

She shut off the feed and leaned back in her chair. Ringgold grabbed her coffee mug and took a sip.

“I’ll be sad to see you go back to the island, but that’s where you’re needed,” Ringgold said. “I suppose I was selfish in hoping you’d be able to stay here.”

“I’m sorry I have to go,” Kate said solemnly.

Ringgold put the mug down, the ceramic clinking on the metal surface of the desk. A thud followed, making the clink sound like a pin drop. The ship groaned, and an echo bounced off the bulkheads inside the room. Both jumped at the sound.

“What the hell was that?” Kate asked. She stood and followed Ringgold to the glass window looking out over the center of the lab. Yokoyama and Carmen stood with their visors angled toward the exit hatch that led back into the ship.

Kate flinched at a flurry of popping sounds.

“Was that gunfire?” Ringgold gasped.

The hatch to the central lab suddenly swung open, disgorging a naked, skeletal figure that darted into the room. The frail man dropped to all fours and vanished in the maze of lab stations.

“My God,” Kate said. On reflex, she grabbed the President’s wrist and said, “We need to get out of here.”

“What the hell is that?” Ringgold said, stepping closer to the window.

“A Variant!” Kate said, panic cracking in her voice.

Carmen and Yokoyama stumbled away from their desk, their screams drowned out by an emergency alarm blaring from the wall-mounted speakers. The LEDs flicked off a moment later, and red light splashed over the labs, bathing it in crimson.

Monitors and equipment toppled over as the doctors ran across the room. The bony Variant followed, its veiny skull bobbing up and down. Claws scraped over the metal surface of lab stations, but this creature wasn’t howling like the others. It moved awkwardly, its stalk-like appendages distorted and slow.

Yokoyama and Carmen were circling the room, dragging their oxygen cords behind them. The Variant leapt onto a metal table to cut them off, swiping at Carmen’s cord. Its horned claws cut through it like a fish snapping a line. Oxygen hissed out of the whipping cord, and the creature perched on its bony legs to watch the doctors run toward the observation window Kate and Ringgold stood behind.