Operation (20 page)

Jake liked working for the Navy. Most of the sailors were easy to get along with and he liked their working habits. He liked the philosophy that they seemed to live by— work hard and play hard. When there was work to be done, you busted ass until it was done. If it was slow, they took advantage of it as well.

Like all meals, lunchtime for the Navy was punctual. If there wasn’t anything of significant importance happening, it was also longer than the usual hour. Things were quiet today and petty officer Rodgers, told him to take an extra hour for working late the other night. Jake grabbed his brown bag lunch and said he was driving down to the small pier to eat his lunch and maybe fish a little. Jake often did just that.

Jake started up the jeep and drove off. As he drove, he observed that most of the sailors on the base were enjoying a long lunch. Either option would mean there would be no one around the area he visited the other night. He turned off the main road and headed for the small wooded area.

What if someone is there? They’ll want to know why I’m nosing around so far off the main road from the base. Well…I’ll just tell them part of the truth. I lost something that night and I am just retracing my steps. What was it I lost? Maybe a hub cap or part of the rails for the back of the truck that bounced off from the rough road—supervisor says I have to pay for it if I don’t find it…yeah…yeah…

He entered the woods and followed the road to the small clearing. When he arrived, he stopped the jeep and looked around. No one was there. He breathed a little bit easier. He turned the ignition off and got out of the jeep. He was fairly sure this was where he had been the other night, so he looked for signs of his visit. He clearly saw the tread marks of the lighter vehicle on the ground.

This has to be the place…looks right.

The container was brought here…he was sure of that.

So it didn’t just disappear in thin air. Or did it? No. So if it didn’t disappear—where did it go? Come on, Sherlock…what happened?

Jake’s eyes centered upon the small hill in front of him.

There’s something odd about that hill…it looks out of place—it doesn’t belong here. Man-made? Hiding something—like maybe an entrance? Maybe things didn’t disappear, they went underground.

Jake felt his body tremble at the possibilities of his discovery.

Whoa…wait a minute there, Jake old boy—careful.

He walked over to the mound of dirt looking for clues. He climbed up one side of it and reached the top. Nothing. Looking down at the ground, he noticed a rock lying at the base of the mound. No other rocks were near it. It was all alone and stood out, like it didn’t belong there. Jake climbed back down and went to the rock. He grabbed it and tried to lift it. It wouldn’t budge. He looked at the stone again. It wasn’t that big and he should have been able to move it. This time, he gripped it from a different angle and tried to roll it over. It went over effortlessly and he was surprised to see that it attached to the ground by a set of hinges.

Son of a bitch. What do we have here?

He hesitated to touch the lever, hidden by the rock-like cover.

Hold on, Jake. You know what this means. Underground stuff. Secret stuff. Get in trouble kind of stuff and lose your job kind of stuff. But I’ve come this far…I can’t stop now. I can tell them I wanted to help them by checking to see if I could figure out what happened the other night. That way, if I found anything wrong with their precautions, I could tell them about it.

Without any more hesitation, Jake pulled on the lever.

He heard a click, and then his eyes caught the motion. The front part of the large mound soundlessly began to raise itself toward him. He stepped out of the way of the rising hatch, amazed at the silence of the lift mechanism used to hoist the door open. When it reached its highest point, it stopped. Jake stepped closer to the opening and peered inward. The open door revealed a large corridor about fifteen feet in height and about fourteen feet wide.

Damn, you could fit just about anything in here…even vehicles.

The tunnel sloped downward. The walls, ceiling and floor were made of smooth cement. Lighting was provided by a series of light bulbs spaced every twelve feet or so. He could see footprints and tread marks on the floor in a heavy layer of dirt and dust—the container and men from the other night.

Wow…this is something, isn’t it? An underground…whatever. I wonder how big it is? Where does it go? What’s down there?

“Today is my day for mysteries,” he said aloud. “All are just begging to be solved too. Even Sherlock would be proud of me. But I should stop…”

 You can’t stop now. There’s only one way to find out what’s down there. But what if I get caught? Come on now, if this was that important, someone would have been here by now—right? Yeah…probably so. I’ve come this far, so what the hell.

Jake started down the corridor. He immediately felt the air become cooler. There were no signs of use in the corridor: no doors, no signs, telephones—nothing. His guess was that it was designed as some kind of fallout shelter in case of the
big one,
a topic
that was on the mind of most people these days. Now, with the end of the war coming, maybe it was just for storage or something.

When he got to the end of the corridor, the turn was not a square ninety degrees but a slow circular turn. He assumed that was for bringing material down here by small truck, car or forklift; it would be easier for those to navigate around the curve rather then a straight corner. He continued walking around it, until it opened into a large rectangular area with six corridors moving away from it, sort of like the rotary for the airfield. This was obviously the central hub for the underground complex.

Each corridor had a sign indicating where it led to: central command, medical, berthing, messing, storage and to base central (above ground). He wanted to explore the entire facility, but for the moment, he searched for signs of the container and the men that had disappeared. Glancing down at the floor, the disturbed dust indicated that they had headed for the medical area. That’s where he headed.

As he proceeded down the corridor, he wondered, why had the soldiers taken the container to the medical area? And why was he able to get into the place so easily? It didn’t make any sense.

The corridor ended and opened into a large area. In contrast to some of the other areas he had seen so far, some of the lights were out and it was difficult to see clearly. A large center isle divided the room in half: on the left side, it was subdivided into smaller areas and contained what he thought was medical diagnostic equipment. Some had less equipment then others; he guessed some were examination rooms while others could be used for operating.

On the right side, there were large open areas, almost classroom-like in their arrangement of chairs and desks. As he walked down the center aisle, Jake came to an area where the chairs and desks had been stacked and shoved along one side of the room. As he explored the area further, he found the container from the other night. It sat in the middle of the room. The doors were open a few inches. As he continued to observe the surroundings, something caught his: all the walls he had seen so far were white; these had splotches of something dark on them… and looked an awful lot like…

That’s blood, buddy… Holy shit…What the hell happened here? Time to get out.

He hesitated.

No—can’t. Need to look around first—maybe someone is hurt and needs help. Maybe there was some kind of accident or something. I just can’t leave without making sure.

Jake carefully studied the surrounding.

Not good, too much blood for one person. What the hell happened?

He moved silently toward the container while his eyes continued to scan the room for any movement. He wished it were brighter in the cavern. A few more steps brought him closer to the container. His foot struck something that made a squishy sound. He looked down towards his feet, at the bloodied hand he had just stepped on. He took a sudden step back and looking around, and saw the bodies of several soldiers stacked along the side of the container.

Jesus Christ…they’re like slabs of meat—like a slaughter house.

He wanted to ignore them, or at least pretend they weren’t really there, or that they were something else—but he knew he couldn’t. He counted: there were six, an exact match of the number from the other night. He knelt closer to the first one to see if any of them yet lived. He forced his eyes to look upon death oozing from their ripped throats. Not cut or slit, but ripped, with something that left torn edges ragged and uneven. He felt the vomit surge into his throat and he struggled to swallow it.

Whoever did this could still be here, with him.

He wondered if the soldiers had put up a fight. He wondered what could have killed all of them like that.

What the hell happened here?

Jake examined the bodies of the remaining solders; each one still had their sidearm in its holster.

They didn’t see it coming…whatever or whoever it was—the soldiers didn’t suspect they were in danger until it was too late.

Jake glanced at the open container door. He grabbed one of the heavy steel doors and swung it wider. The light was poor but he could see that the container held only one item, a square box. He laid his hand on it and was surprised of how cold it was to the touch. Fear coursed through him like a raging torrent of icy water. Something was terribly wrong here. There was something else here that was evil beyond his wildest imagination. 

  Time to go, Jake. You’ve seen enough and you have to report it even if it costs you your job. Something is very, very wrong here—

As Jake began to turn, he felt a hand on his shoulder grip him like a cold steel vise. His bladder reacted and it let go, filling his pants with warm urine.

Chapter Five

P
RESENT
D
AY

Jake felt his old body ache as he stepped out of the police cruiser and into the waist-high shrubbery.

Damn arthritis. Gets worse by the day. If they knew down at the office how bad it was, they’d fire my ass, although they would call it retirement. Then what would I do without…Stop it, you idiot, get your old mind in focus, Jake, and find the damn place!

It was getting late and soon people would come looking for the officer. He knew he had to hurry. He oriented himself with the mound of dirt and moved the brush and shrubbery to the side as he walked in the direction where he thought the stone would be. He used his feet to search the surface of the ground, moving the growth and feeling for it. After several minutes of searching, he began to worry.

Where the hell is it? I should have brought the tractor in to cut this damn growth! Jesus—but no time. I have to—

His foot struck something hard.

There you are, you son of a bitch!

He knelt down and moved aside the thick brush. His hands settled on the round outline of cold stone. He smiled and lifted the rock. Its rusty hinges squeaked and protested but gave way easily. Next, he grasped the lever and lifted. It didn’t budge. He knelt closer and saw it was rusted in place.

Damn…the bitch is stuck.

He grasped the lever with both hands. He closed his eyes and pulled as hard as he could, until flashes of lights appeared in his sight from the exertion. The lever had not budged.

“Stupid SOB!” he screamed at the lever, as he stood upright, feeling a wave of lightheadedness making him unsteady. He rested for a few seconds. 

Wait a minute, look in the police cruiser…in the trunk. Maybe there is something in there you could use, some tool or something.

Jake walked back to the cruiser. He removed the keys from the ignition and walked to the rear of the vehicle. He inserted the key into the trunk lock and turned it. The trunk lid rose and he peered inside.

First aid kit, road disaster kit, flares, bolt cutters, blankets, rain gear…shit!

He was just about to give up when his eyes focused on a can stuck in the back corner of the trunk. He reached for it and turned the label toward him.

WD-40…that might do the trick…just maybe—depends how bad the damn thing is rusted.

He stared at the can in his hand, as if waiting for something to come to him in his thoughts.

Well, it will either work or it won’t, but standing here thinking about it ain’t exactly solving the problem.

Jake closed the trunk and walked back to the lever with the can of WD-40 in his hand. He knelt down and sprayed the lever until it dripped. He grasped the lever with both hands and pulled in short jerks, trying to loosen it up. He didn’t want to try and pull with all his weight until it loosened up a little in fear of breaking it altogether. When he felt it move slightly, he sprayed on some more WD-40. He allowed it to soak in and then pulled again. This time, it moved a little further and he worked it back and forth slowly. After a few seconds, he pulled harder and this time, the lever moved all the way to the open position.

 
The door began to swing up and open. Shrubbery, forest growth and earth gave way to its force as it opened. Jake watched it in amusement and felt himself smile. Even though the switch had been a son of a bitch to loosen, the door moved as if just installed. After all these years, he still didn’t know what the actual lift mechanism was that allowed this heavy door to open virtually silent.

Hope whatever bastard designed the lift patented the son of a bitch. He’ll be a millionaire by now.

When the door reached its maximum height, Jake peered down the corridor. It was dark and the smell of damp and stale air wafted toward him. It was dark. He knew the electricity had been turned off to the base a long time ago, but he didn’t know if the underground compound was on a different service, and in either case, he didn’t know where the light switch was.