Chapter 47

General Robert Laramie stared at his command center’s big board. Most of the gigantic screen’s sub-windows showed nothing but static snow. The majority of the outside sensors and cameras had been taken out by the successive EMPs and that nuclear blast wave.

Above him the overhead lights flickered, and a few fixtures hanged dangling by their wires. He made a mental note to bring up that failure with his maintenance officer. Although they were within 5 klicks of ground zero, most of that distance had solid rock between his facility and it. Area 61 had been built to withstand nuclear attacks and in fact this was the second one it had survived.

Both had come from Kiloton and that first had been even closer. That one, thirty-four years ago, had been right on top of the base, but was far smaller. This latest one was far bigger, but still fell short of what the base could withstand. The problem was much of the force had been channeled downward by Meridian and the Hydra teams' magnetic fields. Because of that, Area 61 had taken more of a shaking than it should’ve.

The General cursed. That bitch had almost screwed up everything. If she was indeed Alan Glenn then as usual she had royally frakked up the works. If Meridian had engaged in the battle from the beginning there’d been a good chance Kiloton could’ve been neutralized before the monster had a chance to go critical and explode.

She had, he reluctantly admitted, lured Kiloton to the target area. However he was confident he would’ve thought of a suitable tactic that would’ve accomplished the task. Then Simpson had charged out, yelling something about saving his children. Gawd save him from nutcases!

That reprobate didn’t even have any children. If he survived, that was one convict that was getting his ass sent back to the hind end of the universe.

Trying not to show his impatience, he stared at the bank of screens showing nothing but electronic snow. They did have communications with the bunker, before Simpson had charged out in his forlorn hope. It did look as if they had managed to take out Kiloton, but they didn’t know for certain. That last surge of interference had interrupted communications again.

At least according to Dr. McClellan it was only more EM and a small amount of radiation. That left them a good chance that Meridian and Hydra were still recoverable. As bad as things turned out, he still thought he could spin the damage control so his career would be safe. Preserving those two valuable assets would go a long ways in doing just that.

Finally a few screens came to life as the bunker’s crew piped back live video footage of the battlefield.

“Good,” the General grunted, as he studied the displays. Kiloton had transformed back into a form more easily dealt with. Mission successful. “Deploy the recovery and medical teams, ASAP! Tell Operation Thunderbolt they may begin operations. Dr. McClellan,” he barked. “Prepare to send out the Hydra and Meridian incapacitation implant activation codes. Knock them all out, including that woman if you can. We‘ll sort out who‘s who in the medical wing.”

The scientist looked at him and nodded. Turning to the white coated technician seated at a console at his elbow, he asked, “Have they dropped their magnetic screens?”

The tech nodded, “Yes sir. Our signals should get through.”

Meeting the General’s gaze, Dr. McClellan ordered, “Send the code.” Lifting the safety cover, the technician pressed the preprogrammed transmit code. It carried its message at the speed of light .

Val winced as static electricity crackled and popped as she stood up. That last blast, while it hadn’t packed the wallop of a nuke, had still been big enough to knock everyone ass over teakettle. It’ll released one hell of lot of static.

Even walking caused sparks to jump about her. As much as she wanted to hurry to her brother, with the air being so charged right now, it would not be a good idea. At least her uniform provided protection from it. The heat and sharp edged fused glass snapped and crunched as she made her way carefully down the steep slope of the crater. Her visor was registering some radiation, but not as much as she first feared. More like getting a series of X-rays, than what you would expect from staggering down into a ground burst crater. That last blast sent both Max and Kiloton over the edge and into the smoking hole that resembled an entrance into hell.

She hadn’t learned how to truly fly yet, but trusted her newest gift to help lower her down the treacherous slope. Reaching the bottom, Val saw both of them were still alive, but Max was much more badly hurt. The old convict was a mangled, burnt wreck of a hulk, but somehow the big man was still moving. He’d lost both arms and one leg as well as being charred black from the living nuclear furnace he’d wrestled with.

And won, Val reminded herself. With sad irony she remembered what she’d said way back when the Rocketeers were trying to arrest him. ‘It’d take a nuke to kill the big bad man from Chicago.’ It seemed she had it right.

Val stopped, kneeling down by him as the fused ground shattered under her boots into crystal shards. He didn’t look good. She could tell his abilities were trying to heal him, but they were losing the fight. Maggie included a small but compact emergency medical pouch with her armor, but Max’s injuries were far beyond what its meager contents could manage. Shaking her head sadly, she started to stand.

“Wait, donna’ go,” Max croaked. “Ya‘, Vroom’s daughter or sumpthing?”

His eyes had regenerated as well as the rest of his head and neck. However she could see his regenerative abilities struggle and slow as the severity of his injuries overwhelmed his talent. She didn’t think even a state of the art trauma ward could help him right now. Not that even she could get him to one in time to make a difference. Either his powers would save him or they wouldn’t. Right now it didn’t really look too good.

Val answered softly, “Yeah, that’ll do. Hang on. We’ll try and get help,” she said, fearing it was far too late for that.

“There’s no help for me. Maybe there never was. If ya’ anything like your old man I know you’ll keep ya’ promises. I know, I’m a bastard, but I have a favor ta’ ask.”

He rasped. “Look after my kids. My clones is everyone else calls them. They’ve a chance at a new start, don’t let them do what I’ve done.”

A long pause passed. “Please,” he asked in a near whisper closing his eyes.

A tear ran down her cheek under her helmet. “I promise.”

All he could manage was a low grunt as finally his powers failed. Without it fighting to keep him alive, blood and fluids starting running from the stumps of his limbs and ruined flesh.

She stood, repeating her promise to the old tough guy who had at long last redeemed himself. “I promise.”

Her brother lay only 20 feet further away, but it was one of the longest journeys she’d ever taken. He still looked like he did that day so many years before. He was dressed in the old Rocketeers’ uniform. Blood stained one shoulder through a nasty rip that she guessed was where Max speared him with that rail.

So many emotions were welling up inside. Sorrow competed with anger, and compassion warred with selfishness. How she had missed him so terribly, but why hadn’t he been stronger. Why had he’d let those terrible things happen so many years ago? Why had he left her all alone?

Making her way to his side, her eyes filled with tears. All those things had never been Gus’s fault. Like them all, he had his childhood stolen. Her brother had tried his best to be the father-figure that the Air Force boys in blue had denied them all. If he had failed, it was only because despite having the powers of a god, he was in the end only human.

Raising her visor, she felt the rush of the still brutal heat that had seared this hole in the earth only minutes ago. Ignoring the discomfort, she knelt by her brother, checking his wound. Doc’s Rocketeer supersuit had already helped seal the area, stopping the bleeding. Pulling out her own med kit, she treated the wound.

Gus’s eyes opened wide in shock. “What happened? Who are you? Where am I?”

Gently she told him. “You’re at Area 61 at one of the ranges. You took a wound to your shoulder, but it doesn’t look too bad.”

He looked at her curiously. “You kind of look like Kat, but you’re not her.”

Val shook her head. “No, I’m not Kat. What is the last thing you remember?”

Grimacing at his pain, he laid his head back trying to think. “My team and I had just been zapped again. We were recovering top side, I think.”

Gus’s entire body convulsed as he remembered. “Joyce! I felt her die!”

Anguish filled his face. “They killed her! Somehow I knew that she had died. I was so angry. She was only 12 and they murdered her with their damn experiment. I knew Lafitte had ordered us to be zapped again. It was his fault! I wasn’t going to let him do this to anyone anymore. I …” His voice trailed off in a choke, his face white.

Looking behind her, Val saw he’d seen what was left of poor Max.

Shocked, he whispered, “It wasn’t a dream. I really did kill all those people!” he cried, and tried to get up despite his wound.

Val gently held him down as she continued to check him for more injuries. “No you did not! The killers were the same ones who pulled the trigger on Joyce. Just like it killed her, it did something to you that last time. You transformed into a Leviathan-like creature. It wasn’t your fault at all, but the ones who caused it.”

Gus’s voice was heavy with guilt, didn‘t agree. “How many besides him?” he asked hoarsely.

Val sighed, her heart aching for him. “Don’t worry 'bout that right now. We need to get you out of here. I think it’s okay to move you. The only injury I can find is your shoulder. Okay, let’s get you on your feet.“

She could’ve easily carried him, but Val felt it was better this way. Gus had never been the sort to wallow in his troubles, but he needed something to do to keep his mind off of what was happening. Helping by his good shoulder, they hobbled towards the rim.

Gus looked at her intently again. “You never did tell me who you are or who you’re with. I don’t recognized your uniform,” he asked, implying his questions as he looked around at the enormous hole they were at the bottom of.

Val smiled as she looked up at the rim, judging her location. “Now days, I’m a private citizen although I do hold a reserve officer’s commission in my homeland’s militia. I guess you could say I have dual citizenship. Hold on. I’m going to lift us out of here, but my flight isn‘t very good.”

He grunted as their feet left the ground and they headed upwards. “Then you’re trespassing, and you still haven’t told me who you are. You still seem familiar somehow, but I still can’t place you.”

They were rising only a bit faster than the smoke and steam from the crater’s heat fused bottom. She and he could see the perfect circle of the pit that’d been formed, cookie cutter-like, by Malak and her clones' magnetic fields attempting to contain Kiloton’s blast.

Pressed close together, he stared at her. She didn’t know how to help him. However, she knew as they set foot outside the pit she had to find a way. When Kiloton had transformed back into Gus, that last blast wave had taken its toll. Although not anywhere as powerful as that nuclear-like blast that’d dug that new pit behind her, it still had released enough energy to cause even more static discharges. The kids that had been protected, like Lizzie and her Maxi-clones, were fine, but everyone else looked in rough shape, with shocks and burns.

That wasn’t even counting that one group of clones whose Maxi-Malak had been unable to completely protect her team. They were in a bad way. She could hear the wail of rescue vehicles on their way so she guessed those hardened hangers had survived Kiloton’s temper tantrum.

The thing was she now had a big problem. She had made a promise. Even if she hadn’t, Val still would have wanted to help those Max called his children. They being real, and not temporary, changed everything. Too many bad guys had created cloned monsters and creatures as nothing more than weapons. Like any sane person did with a mad dog, you shot it before it could hurt anyone. The rule of thumb was clones such as Max’s were dangerous and were destroyed. There had been exceptions over the years, like that girl who was the ward of the Chevaliers in New Riverside. However she had no doubts that the General had no intentions of letting anyone know about his secret little supra-army.

But even if she wanted to, she couldn’t take them with her. There simply wasn’t room in the Buggy. Not to mention almost all of them needed medical help, up to and including her students. Malak and Lizzie were fine, but the other four were all hurt to some degree.

Gus standing by her side must have noticed her dipping into Slow-Time to think things out. Figuring things out, he muttered, “I’ve seen this before. It’s Slow-Time. It’s your eyes. You have Alan’s eyes. You’re my brother.”

Turning to him her breath caught. Her Luck was singing yet again this night. The sad soaring tones couldn’t be missed this time. Something else bad was going to happen. Wasn’t what had already occurred enough for one night? Was her brother going to be unable to cope with her changes? Or was it something else?

Val nodded slowly as she wondered what it was going to be.

A message blinking in urgent red flashed on her HUD.

“HOSTILE SIGNAL DETECTED. COUNTERATTACK INITIATED.”

'Was this message what her Luck was warning her about and not her brother’s reaction?' she wondered.

Gus’s eyes widened as he tried to understand. “But you’re old now! How did you manage to change?”

“This doesn’t bother you?” she asked, with her eyes looking for the unseen threat.

He smiled at her. “Ollie told us all a long time ago about your problem. I can’t say I understand, but no matter boy, or girl, I’ll always be your big brother. Now will you tell me where are everyone else and how did you get so old?”

She looked for the doom her talent was forewarning of but saw nothing. Val started to answer when a splash of warm wetness hit her cheek as her brother fell.

Chapter 48

Area 61 test range

“Duck and cover my ass,” Staff Sergeant Green cursed sourly as he dug himself and his spotter, Hennessy, out of their partially collapsed sniper hide. Quickly he checked his gear and found everything still operational, even that damn gee whiz scope on his rifle.

Hennessy gave him the thumb’s up sign as the spotter checked their field phone, while he tried to find out what the hell had just happened. There had been not one, but two blasts. The first had been a damn nuke and he was dead certain they’d both been too damn close. Maybe it’d missed them today, but he was all too aware of the possibility of radiation poisoning or cancer ending Mama Green’s little boy’s life way too damn early.

The second one was like that thing that had cause that aurora still dancing over their heads. They had still been trying to unearth themselves during that one and that had probably been a real good thing all considered.

Studying his scope, Sergeant Green saw that bunch of kids that had been fighting that big glowing thing. Most of them looked to have been hurt, some pretty bad, but the majority of them were mobile. One woman dressed in something like all black assault gear had pulled out a med kit, and was aiding the wounded.

Alright, he decided, that made them ‘friendlies.’ He found no sign of that ballsy dame who had been playing tag with the damn energy monster thing. Sergeant Green rather hoped she was alright. Wouldn’t mind meeting her, judging from what he could see from the way she filled out that suit of hers. Not that it mattered much. With his luck she’d turn out to be an officer or someone else strictly off limits to enlisted like him. Hell, if nothing else, he figured they all owed her a drink, considering the chances she took luring that thing into the ambush.

“Sergeant, HQ wants to know if we see a man in a blue uniform,” Hennessy asked.

Giving the area another quick scan, he was about to answer, 'no', when he saw two heads poke above the crater’s rim. One was his foxy dame, but the other was someone new. He was wearing a blue uniform with red and white strips running down the arms and legs. It seemed familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it.

“Affirmative, I got one spotted. He’s with the woman in the motorcycle helmet who lured that monster over here. Looks like he’s wounded in the shoulder and doesn’t appear to be a threat since she’s helping him stand,” Green added. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling something was out of kilter about all of this.

“HQ says he’s the target and to engage at the soonest,” his spotter relayed to him.

The sergeant’s stomach twisted. The target wasn’t hardly older than the rest of the kids out there. Plus he was already hurt. “Tell HQ I want to confirm that order. This kid can’t be more than 18 himself, and he’s already wounded.”

They’d all had class after class about what constituted an illegal order. What they didn’t tell you was what to do in the gray area. Someone had just set off a nuke on an American military base for Gawd‘s sake. Now HQ was telling him to service a target who was already wounded, and didn’t look to be a threat.

Formally, Hennessy, reported, “Sergeant Green, HQ confirms the man being helped by that woman is the target. They say again, he’s to be engaged at the soonest.”

Praying he wasn’t making a mistake he pulled the heavy weapon into his shoulder. The damn thing kicked like a SOB, and if he was going to do this he was going to do it right. “Get on your spotter scope, and confirm what you see.”

Hennessy shook his head wondering what was up with the Staff Sergeant but did as he was told.

Green asked him, “You got him? Does he look familiar in anyway?”

The Lance Corporal replied, “Yeah, I’ve got him. He’s just as HQ described. I don’t recognize him, but I don’t really pay attention to all that mutant hype stuff.

Green sighed. He couldn’t find a good reason not to obey his orders. He still intended on doing his 20 and retiring. “Tell HQ we’re engaging,” he said sighing.

Falling back into his shooters stance, he began acquiring his target. He’d no idea what these strange damn conditions would have on his ballistics. No one to his knowledge had ever attempted to engage a target under post-nuke battlefield conditions. Everything affects projectile trajectory; humidity, air density, among others. The heat and smoke wouldn’t make this easy but his scope took care of most of the problems.

Like he had countless times before he slowly squeezed the trigger. Training made the shot routine as he fired. The XM-111’s 25 mm shell erupted from the rifle. It covered the distance between Sergeant Green and his target in an eye blink. If it had hit center of mass like he’d intended, the target would never had known what had hit him, but for one small problem.

Both the rifle and scope had been specially selected for this mission. Each had been made as tough and as shielded from harm as possible. In this case, neither failed, but instead it was the ammunition. The 25mm rounds took programming on the fly so the best time could be selected for the explosive rounds to detonate. In this case, Sergeant Green had selected 'none at all', depending on the massive round to do the job by old fashion kinetic force.

The extreme conditions of multiple EMPs and static fields it had generated caused the fusing to malfunction. Rather than strike the target, the shell exploded just over two feet short of its target. Shrapnel struck both the target and the woman standing nearby.

Val never felt the rain of razor sharp metal fragments as they struck her. Most bounced off of her Lizzie-like force screen and the few that did slide through that were stopped by her supersuit. She had eyes only for her brother who had fallen at her side. He’d been hit 7 times, including once in his unprotected head. Her hands, lightning quick, used the bandages in her kit to stop the bleeding but she’d no idea of the possible internal damage. All the while she’d dropped her visor down, replaying the entire event.

Maggie was ahead of her and had already backtracked the missile back to its point of origin. Knowing she’d done all she could for her brother, she needed to make sure everyone else were safe from this newest danger. Following her HUD‘s directions, she sped there, crossing the mile or so in a mere breath. The static charge in the air was less now, although lightning was still randomly striking, giving the whole scene an unreal feel. She was unsurprised to find a pair of well hidden soldiers, who had ridden out Kiloton’s wrath.

The mammoth gun in front of them received all of her anger. Using every ounce of strength she had, Val ripped the offending thing apart even as her fingers dug indents into the steel. The rending metal partially assuaged her anger. The startled looks of the crew did the rest as they saw her fury.

The sergeant held up his hands and urged the other to as well. After dropping the field phone he’d been holding, the other followed suit.

“Doesn’t matter anyways. HQ’s gone again. Lost them right before …” the young soldier shut up as the older sergeant gave him a nasty glance.

“Shit!” he muttered and closed his eyes in pain. “Now, I remember.”

He looked up at Val who still trembled in anger. “Now I know him. You’re a speedster like Vroom. That makes our target Captain Blazzar. Congratulations Hennessy, we just shot one of the good guys.”

The younger man looked at him confused. “But we confirmed with HQ, not once but twice!

The Sergeant wincing explained, “Ma’am, I am sorry. I just didn’t recognize him. You should know that there were to be 3 other teams like ours out here. We were told a group of terrorists were going to attack. I know it’s small consolation, but I am sorry,” he said in sorrow.

Holding onto the reins of her temper, she asked, “You say your Headquarters confirmed you had the right man?”

The younger nodded. “Yes Ma’am. Twice, and the Sergeant asked me to confirm too, but I didn‘t know him.” Bewildered he asked, “Who is Captain Blazzar?”

Letting her breath out slowly, seeking calmness, despite the torment of her heart, she replied before racing off to look for those other snipers. “My brother.”

Her senses spread wide, looking for the others, she overheard the Sergeant say to his younger companion, “I think maybe we’re going to live. Let’s make a lesson of this. Never ever let someone volunteer you for some cushy assignment. Grab your gear. There’s wounded out there and we’re going to help. On the way I‘ll give you a little history lesson about Captain Blazzar and the Rocketeers.”

Technician James Farris watched the telemetry for all the Hydra and Meridian subjects, plus one. The control window for their implants appeared on his monitor. He had a front row seat in the command center for the whole show. However with Dr. McClellan and the commanding General of Area 61 standing right at his shoulder, he had little time to enjoy the experience. The young scientist-technician was far too busy monitoring these extraordinary youngsters. He’d just activated the small devices implanted in each of the subjects designed to render them safely unconscious.

One of the active Hydra teams were a mess, according to the information their suits and implants were relaying back to him. The Meridian team’s readings were a little weird. Although surveillance showed none of them had been seriously injured, they had been banged around out there, but their telemetry showed nothing. According to the data stream, they could still be asleep back in their quarters.

Still, they were mutants, and they had recently undergone Dr. McClellan’s process. Who knew what was normal for them any more? Besides, speaking of which, the good Doctor was literally looking over his shoulder, so if something was seriously wrong, he would know, right?

As for the ‘plus one,’ Ms. Vroom, her newly activated data link was sending back a wealth of exciting readings. She was racing at an average speed of 350 mph and all of her vital signs were extremely abnormal. He’d never seen anything like this before. What he could tell was she's so far off the charts that she brought a whole new meaning to the top most powerful mutant category of Omega. And yeah, if he was reading this right, she was really, really, pissed.

That was a very bad combination, since James had a very good idea the two responsible were standing right behind him. If and when she caught up with them he wanted to be far, far away.

The Hydra teams responded to the sedatives as expected, but strangely, although their implants acknowledged receiving the commands, the Meridian subjects weren’t showing any signs of going under. For that matter neither did Ms. Vroom.

Suddenly his monitor flickered and then things went really crazy. James stared at the skull and crossbones laughing at him from his monitor. He’d known that Area 61 was instrumental in coming up with the computer virus that had helped defeat the Alien Gray invasion years ago. It seemed someone else also knew, and had returned the favor, flying the same flag so to speak.

The lights went out completely, leaving only the battery operated emergency lights. The huge wall-size monitor flashed strobe-like with the mocking skulls. James heard the curses as everyone tried to respond to this newest crisis. He was a geneticist specializing in supra-humans. This was so far out of his abilities, he didn’t have a clue of what to do.

Then he was thrown from his chair! Sprawled on the floor, James gaped, as the old Doctor who’d manhandled him, manically typed in a continuous rattle. How had that almost 70 year old man tossed him so easily? James wasn’t the biggest guy in the world but his 200 pounds didn’t make him a light weight either.

The General rushed over and he overheard the two senior men talking. “Not to belabor the obvious General, but we have been virused. I am back-dooring into the mainframe, trying to moderate the damage. It got through our filters, piggybacked on the telemetry signals,” Dr. McClellan explained.

The military man didn’t look at all happy in the washed out lights, like something from an old black and white film. “How bad is it Doctor? We’re in the middle of an ‘A’ One crisis. Without command, control, and communications, C3, this could turn into a wildfire,” he said, with special emphasis, giving the senior scientist a look James didn’t quite understand.

One of James’s fellow techs reported, “The main power grid is down, and so is everything connected to the BMAC. That isn’t even physically on the same network. All command functions are down and so is security. On a positive note, emergency services such as medical, environmental, and the elevators are still online.”

Dr. McClellan, said over the rattle of his keystrokes, “That’s because they weren’t targeted by this. It is almost AI-like the way this attack is going after every function, except for a few vital ones, to prevent lost of life. It is a work of art and if we can preserve a sample it will make for an interesting study. However at this time, I can‘t stop what it has already done. I can only try to keep it from inflicting more damage by shutting down systems before it gets to them.”

The General looked real unhappy hearing that. “Dr. McClellan that is not what I wanted to hear.” Turning for the main console he said, “Let’s hope for our sakes that the Hot Line is still up, otherwise I hope you can run very fast Doctor.” Picking up the phone, his face took on an indescribable expression. Slowly he shook his head and sat down heavily.

James was getting a really bad feeling about all of this.

Master Security Control for Area 61
Location: Top Secret.

Operative Number 11 kept wiping his clammy hands. They’d been briefed about what was going to happen at Area 61. But no one knew just how bad it was going to get. As soon as they'd ejected the damn thing, it had cut loose with a EMP that had knocked out power to the entire region. Reports were still coming in, but Las Vegas and Reno were definitely in the dark. Gawd only knew how far out and bad it was.

What he did know is that it had knocked out one of their secure comm lines. Then things got serious. Two unknown women got involved which raised all kinds of security flags, but at least they were trying to stop the monster codenamed Kiloton.

Just so things didn’t get too boring, the experimental subjects from Project Meridian had shown up after apparently escaping. That really made no one here happy because that was why they were here after all, to make sure none of the dangerous projects there at Area 61 got loose.

Kiloton just had to blow the flak up, and let loose with another EMP that screwed up the power grid even more. In the process, it took out yet another of those comm lines that were supposed to have been shielded against everything man and Gawd could throw against it.

Down to one vital line, they saw just how much damage a 10kt nuke could do. One of their experts who’d rushed in still dressed in his PJ’s and robe, thought it might have been bigger, but had been partially contained by the powerful magnetic fields projected by the Hydra and Meridian teams. What it did do was shake the hell out of Area 61, two miles underground or not.

Then on the heels of that disaster, more trouble reared its ugly head. The data was still coming, and it caused Number 11’s mouth to go completely dry. Someone or something was using the disruption to attempt a cyber attack on Area 61. It was so fast that even the well protected computers at Area 61 hadn’t known what had hit them.

Number 11’s own supercomputers were giving a high possibility that it was either AI or AI designed due to how fiendishly quick the code co-opted resources. Immediately, that pointed fingers at the BMAC. Suddenly the recent thefts of computer components from their admin section made sense. That suggested the old AI was trying to escape. Just how it managed to get access to do so was moot. That couldn’t be allowed after it nearly plunged the world into a nuclear war twenty years ago.

The senior Operative began the sequence of events to initialize the Wildfire sterilization protocol. Together he and Number 11, turned their keys. Nodding at each other, as their safety covers popped open, they pressed the glowing red buttons.

Chapter 49

Area 61 test range

Val was racing to the location of the last of the snipers when she got the rest of the bad news. As Maggie’s text ran across her HUD, she sighed. The second of the hidden pairs of soldiers had the bad luck to have gotten in the way of one of Kiloton’s badly aimed blasts. Those were going to be a closed casket funerals. The third hadn’t been as unlucky but hadn’t been dug in deep enough, so they were badly injured from Kiloton going critical. As she approached the last team, it didn’t look as if they were in any condition to hurt anyone either. She quickly tapped out her own message back to Maggie, giving the location of all these wounded, as she composed her reply to the bad news.

“Gus was hit bad. As good as The Rocketeer supersuits were thirty-five years ago, that shrapnel was designed to penetrate bulletproof materials. I’m a reasonable battlefield medic, but he needs a surgical team STAT. All of Max’s clones are out. I’m guessing their implants have been activated. However those caught in that blast needs help now!”

Her lover had also confessed to doing a bad thing. “Val, I hate to say it but the nearest help is back at Area 61. But I think I may have done a really big Oops. I never expected we would have to return to that place after we’d left.

“I was a little upset by our first escape attempt failing because I didn’t catch that backup system hidden in your implants. When I re-engineered that supra-speed suit for you I dug into my own bag of tricks. If someone tried to activate any of the built-in overrides and control functions, they would get a really nasty surprise. Big Mac and I designed one mean mother of a cyber virus that will kick ass and take names.”

Val couldn’t really blame Maggie, because unless someone tried to use her suit against her, nothing would have happened. At least she knew what that whole warning that about “counter measures” was all about now. Hell, she never expected to have to return to Area 61 either.

But Gus was badly wounded and needed immediate medical attention. That was not even taking Max’s 12 kids into account. Half of them were just as badly off as Gus, and like Maggie said, Area 61 was the nearest medical help. The Buggy couldn’t carry everyone who was hurt, and even as fast as it was, it would still take time they didn‘t have to get to a hospital.

One thing's for certain, she wasn’t about to leave Gus to the Air Force’s tender care, seeing how they just tried to assassinate him. Now that Val’s secret was in the open, and given the way she’d been treated, Maggie wasn’t about to leave Val behind here either. That left Ollie and the Kids, who were probably too stubborn to leave too.

That left Area 61, and Maggie’s little present which was no doubt busily trashing every computer in the joint. That was good because that meant Laramie and Doc were out of the command loop, sitting down there while all that silicon was melting around their ears.

That was also Bad. If their unseen watchers thought things had spiraled out of control, and that the inmates were escaping, they just might, just might mind you, push that little red button to blow them all to kingdom come.

She shook her head. That was always the problem with Slow-Time. It gave her too much time to double think things. What was important here was Gus’s only real chance to survive was Area 61. Val wasn’t about to lose her brother, not after she had finally found him after so long. Then too, there was the promise she made to Max.

She could count as well as anyone, and she knew that 30 of Max’s clones had been taken away and that so far she could count only 12. Even with the one Maxi-Lizzie that she knew had died, that still left 17.

Val had spent her life rescuing those whose only crime were being born different, a mutant. At first it’d been only from the bigots and organizations like the Humanity League. Then as the laws had started to get more discriminatory against mutants, her foes had expanded to include the government, and in particular, ULTIMATE.

She had lost everything she’d held dear to the Interests of National Security, and so called sacrifices for the greater good. Val had seen first hand how power meant to serve and protect could be corrupted. She had come to admire the State motto of New Hampshire, “Live Free or Die!,” but preferred the paraphrased sentiment from a speech by General Patton, who Lt. Laramie use to quote all the time to the Rocketeers. “Let the other poor dumb bastard die for his beliefs. You live for yours”

There was no way she was going to leave even one of Max’s Kids to someone like Laramie’s tender mercies. Tapping on her touch pad, she wrote, “We’re Staying. Gus and Max’s clones. I don’t trust the Air Force. Risk of double cross and of self-destruct nuke. Topside should be safe. Find a way Home.”

Maggie replied immediately. “No. I’m the medic and will go with wounded! You’re the best able to find transport. Besides I still might be able to find some way to disarm that bomb. “

“I’ll remove implants from clones not too badly hurt. Maybe you can put them up with Ollie in the Buggy. “

“I know you’re worried about your brother, but you know you’re the best one to get us out of here. Now go!”

Val sighed. Maggie was right. Now the question was, where was she going to find something big enough to haul almost forty people, with 7 of those critically injured? Assuming the docs could stabilize everyone so they could be moved of course.

She was only too aware that time was not their friend. This whole place was going to be swarming with trigger happy gung-ho military types, and she already knew Laramie wouldn’t help them. Grabbing those Humvee ambulances and heading into the desert wouldn’t work for long. No, they needed air transport, and preferably an air ambulance with enough range to get them out of the country.

Out in the distance, a glowing ball of light, sparkling under the fading aurora, caught her attention. Val watched it for a long moment as it got closer, thinking that it just couldn’t be what she thought it was. Then on the other hand, sometimes one had just to ask, to receive.

Josh’s boots crunched on the glass as he hurried over to the little girl laying sprawled on the heat fused ground. Using his power to see through others' eyes, he’d helped send his teammates after those Maxi-clones that’d been mostly unhurt by the fight but had instead been knocked out by that crap the Air Force had stuck inside of them.

Kneeling beside Maxi-Lizzie, his eyebrows rose as he saw the scar on her forehead. This was the same clone that’d gone a little crazy, but whom he’d helped calm down. Josh exhaled. So Dr. McClellan had found a way to make their temporary lives more permanent.

Picking her up, he hustled over to where Maggie was removing those things from within them. Ollie had brought The Rocket up, and as soon as the blond woman had finished with one, they were moved inside and strapped down.

No one had said anything, but Josh had figured out they were staying. Maggie was jumping around like crazy between those hurt really bad and trying to keep the Air Force from getting their hands back on Max’s clones.

The Humvee ambulances were just getting there and the medics were jumping out to help. But the Air Force police guys were arriving too and he didn’t think they were there to help. He’d heard ‘Code Joshua’ just one too many times to think of them as anything other than trouble. Then it happened.

Maggie looked up as she worked. Her blue eyes sent him an unmistakable message. She was busy trying to save these kids’ lives and didn’t have time to deal with these cops.

Josh nodded back at her, understanding what she was asking. He would take care of it. Looking around he found who he was searching for, Malik. The buff teen had just returned from bringing back the last of Max’s clones. Catching his eye, Josh tossed his head towards the Air Force police headed their way.

Surprised, Malik gave him a questioning expression, but smiled as Josh grinned at him. Together, they turned to walk towards the on rushing guys in blue.

James was still scrambling to his feet when Dr. McClellan shouted, “General! Your override code, input it now!”

General Laramie sat up, his eyes brightening as he understood. The young scientist watched as both men started typing like mad.

The flickering black and white Skull and Crossbones blinked out and was replaced by a timer display reading 30:00. Then both the Doctor and the General sighed as it began counting backwards. 29:59.

Dr. McClellan explained, “I’ve only got partial control back, but that was enough to let us override the immediate execution of Wildfire using the emergency evacuation protocols. However all communications are still out, and the clock is running. I would suggest we get as far away as possible.”

James watched as the General nodded, taking command. “Listen up! The self-destruct has been activated. We’re evacuating. Let’s move it people!”

He didn’t need to hear anything else. James was already heading to the door as fast as his feet could carry him. He ran into the crush of other civilians running for their own lives.

Looking back behind him, James saw the General leaned back in his chair as the room emptied. His last glance before the press of bodies forced him from the room reminded him of a captain going down with his ship.

James firmly decided he would leave the melodramatics to the military types. He wasn’t going to die down here! Like the rest he pushed his way towards the exits, striving to survive.

In route to Area 61 from Las Vegas

Colonel Randolph Hodges, commander of ULTIMATE’s Heavy Assault Brigade, had to use an act of iron will not to start whistling “The Ride of the Valkyries” as his V-22C command ship carried him into battle. The sky about him hummed with the powerful engines of over a hundred armed aircraft carrying hundreds of power-armored troopers. His people had done an outstanding job of keeping their gear mission ready, and despite the EMPs had still gotten nearly every machine into action.

Reports were still coming in, but the entire area had been slammed hard by the EMPs. Most communications were still out due to the same interference that was causing that aurora overhead. Landlines were still mostly operational, but hospitals and aircraft that’d been in flight, had been hit hard.

They were still some minutes away from Area 61, but SRT One should be entering the Area of Operations (AO) now. The US Air Force units in the area and at Edwards had been closer to the source and so were still recovering.

Many of his troopers were ex-American military and the rumors he and his staff had passed around that a group of mutants might be responsible for the attack were having the desired effect. They were mad, with blood in their eye, and that was just what he wanted.

His unwritten orders had been very clear. It was past time for the abomination of Area 61 to be lanced. It was bad enough for mutants to be tolerated, but to seek to empower the gene corrupted filth was outrageous.

With communications and satellites down, it was the perfect opportunity to not only leave Area 61 as nothing more than a smoking hole in the ground, but to make sure any mu-taint experiments become extinct. With good fortune, SRT One, ULTIMATE’s own tame mutants, would be caught in the middle and exterminated as well. After all the only good mu-tainted was a dead one.

Still no word from SRT One’s controllers, but no matter, his own RAH-66 Havoc scouts would soon be on station. Colonel Hodges shared a glance with his chief of staff, Major Baka. Both of them were strong believers in Humanity, and had no use at all for these so-called next step in evolution. They gave each other a shark-toothed grin. Today was going be a good day for the Race of Men.

Chapter 50

Area 61

Val smiled as she watched Josh handle the zoomies. The youngster had come a long ways, and she couldn’t help the pride she felt. He’d simply gave them a choice of wandering around out here blind or helping. The officer in charge had needed only a taste of what the teen could do to convince him. Besides, the poor fellow was on his own out here, without ole Laramie being unable to crisis manage everyone.

Maggie had packed the Buggy full of unconscious but otherwise healthy clones. Ollie had scooted out of reach of the zoomies, leaving only the ones that had to have medical attention. The officer had given in and now were helping the medics load stretchers as they worked to keep their patients alive.

Meanwhile she’d moved down the slope of the ridge to help conceal the glowing bubble heading straight for her. The radiance that had lit it up, was fading now as all that static electricity went away. Looking up she saw that the aurora that signaled the start this whole disaster was also growing dimmer.

That meant communications would be active again soon, and when that happened, all hell would break loose. She had no idea just how far away Gus’s alter-ego’s temper tantrum had been felt, but he must have dumped a crapper-load of charged particles into the atmosphere for that aurora to have lit up the sky the way it did.

That would have knocked radio, and Gawd only knew what else, out. It also meant that the Air Force couldn’t cover this up with some lame excuse like weather balloons or one of the others they had used over the years.

Unfortunately, that probably meant they would go to plan “B”, blame someone else. Someone like her and Maggie who were already on ULTIMATE’s crap list. From what Maggie had told her, their secret identities were probably trashed anyways. Not only hers as Maggie Carson, but both of Val’s as well.

Sighing, the slim woman shrugged. She had always been rather proud of her Valentina Zarya Savitskaya identity. Valentina Tereshkova had been the first woman in space and it had tickled Val pink when she had been adopted by Papa Savitskiy, seeing how he shared the same name as second woman in space, Svetlana Savitskaya. Besides, who would have expected an ex-member of an American national supra-team to run away to the USSR?

Since the USSR had been their expected enemy back in the Cold War days, General Lafitte had all of the Rocketeers tutored in Russian language and culture, just like the Air Force had taught them other stuff like lock-picking and sleight of hand. When she’d discovered that she not only could become the girl she had always dreamed of, but also could choose what powers she had in that form, The Soviet Union had seemed the perfect place to hide from agents of the US Government. However, even though she had repressed all of her talents and abilities, she’d still been singled out as a mutant.

A low powered one, but one of the ‘special’ ones just the same. The USSR, never one to throw away any resource, sent her to their secret mutant city. Val had wondered if she would have to go on the run again, until she had been adopted by Papa and Mama Savitskiy.

The couple already had a large brood of their own and had opened their hearts to the amnesiac girl Val had pretended to be. The family of circus illusionists and magicians hadn’t been fooled by her act for long, but had said nothing, letting their love for her speak for itself. What had begun as subterfuge had instead become her reality, and she’d found herself returning that love. At long last she had a loving family.

As imperiously as a visiting emperor, Pyotr the Great and his entourage arrived at Area 61. Val didn’t have any idea of how he came to be here; right now, at this very moment, she had never been so glad to see him. She had the great pleasure of startling them all when she ran up and hugged her foster big brother with all of her heart.

Inspector Imbert gave the four guards at the gate an amused snort. Unable to communicate with anyone at all they were adamantly keeping him and his rescue party from entering. He really couldn’t blame them because that was their duty.

However their faces were a study after he pointed out that if an above ground nuclear test had been scheduled, they most certainly would have been notified ahead of time. Not mentioning that the last atmospheric test had been almost 30 years ago, as well as such explosions being banned by international treaties.

Not knowing just what the UHAB's orders were, he’d wanted to make sure no one thought he and his little group were trying to invade. Besides, Philippe didn’t get as old as he was by charging into nuclear explosions.

Lighting his pipe, he was content to wait.

Val stepped back to see who her brother had brought with him. She recognized them all. They were all part of Zolotoye-Yablochko’s militia, and each and every one of them were tough customers. She had to smile seeing the tough little Kazakh, Arghun, with them, but that didn’t answer why they were here.

“I’m happy to see you, Pyotr, but why are you here? And you even brought Arghun with you. I didn’t think after the last time you dragged him along with you on one of your road trips that you would ever be able to talk him into another one.”

The small dark Kazhk muttered, “He told me we were going to visit you, and play in the sand. I thought he meant the beach! I should’ve known better,” he said, kicking at the glassy heat fused and cracked ground.

Her brother cleared his throat. “Papa sent me to bring you home. He was under the impression that you had been arrested. Naturally we expected that you needed rescuing, and so I brought some friends to help. Unofficial friends,” he said, making clear this was Pyotr her brother here, and not Pyotr the Great, the Colonel.

“We saw Margaret on our way in, and who I assume was your old friend, flying in that saucer, from your previous time here, so if you’ll get them we can leave. I would rather not face any official scrutiny,” Pyotr told her in a no nonsense tone.

That hadn’t worked when they were teenagers, she sighed, and wouldn’t work now. Despite his effort to keep his face stony, he winced as she began. “Pyotr, there are a few complications. First, Gus Glenn is alive, but to make a long story short, is badly injured. Next it’s not just me, Maggie, and Ollie. There are 6 children involved who were all but kidnapped from their homes.”

Pausing for breath, she saw that Pyotr’s expression had turned into a painful one, as she continued. “And I made a promise to a dying man that I would look after his kids as well, whom at least 6 of those are also badly injured.”

Ivan plainly curious asked, “Six? Just how many did he have?”

She answered, “I know 12 of them are still alive, but there might be as many as 29. And you’ll love this part, although the nearest medical is Area 61, with everything that’s happened, there is a chance the bureaucrats, to cover their asses, will set off the base’s nuclear self-destruct.

“So I’m not going anywhere until Gus and the injured kids can be moved. Even then we’ll need an aircraft set up as an ambulance.” Looking hopefully at her brother. “I don’t suppose you brought one with you?”

Pyotr’s expression was definitely pained now. “As a matter of fact I did, but that is going to be a problem. We have arranged for a Kusbegi for our extraction. As you remember, they are configured much as the American’s SAR, Search Air Rescue, aircraft, so they do have medical facilities. Handling so many would stretch their resources but it could be done. It’s set to meet us at our rally point sometime in the next hour. Someone will have to meet it and guide it here since I’m assuming the wounded can’t be moved far.

“But that’s the problem. It being seen here will be proof our little nation was involved in all of this somehow. That is not a good thing Valentina!” her brother scolded.

“We already have more than our share of adversaries. The United States have cities that are bigger than our entire country! We don’t need them as enemies. Additionally, ULTIMATE’s Heavy Assault Brigade has been exercising nearby. There just isn’t time!” her brother explained.

Knowing he was right, Val hanged her head. She loved her foster brother, and didn’t want to get him mixed up in this mess. The political fluster-cluck this could turn into because of his involvement was something she didn’t want either.

“Pyotr,” she said. “This is a personal matter, but I don’t deny the likely political fallout from it. I am the adopted daughter of a head of state. To make things worse, I’ve been committing criminal acts here for over two decades. It doesn’t matter that those laws needed to be broken, but the plain truth is, I had planned with premeditation to do so even before returning to the land of my birth. Just by coming home I’ll be causing a problem for our country, but it is and was the right thing to do.

“I didn’t know ULTIMATE was involved too, but seeing how everything has gone wrong, why should I be surprised.

“I can not go with you, but I know you won’t leave me either. If bringing the Kusbegi here will cause that much trouble than another way needs to be found,” she said, crossing her arms.

Her brother’s companions look decidedly uncomfortable witnessing their family argument.

But as he had pointed out, Pyotr was an experienced military commander and knew when to cut his losses. His stone face softened into a sigh. “Val are you absolutely certain about this?” he asked her.

Val spoke softly as she nodded. “Yes. Despite the risks, it’s the right thing to do.”

Pyotr return her nod with an expressive Slavic shrug. Decisively he ordered, “Arghun, you know this terrain better than any of us. Find the closest point we can bring the Kusbegi in and then head to the rendezvous. Let them know what is going on and then contact us when you have them at the new LZ”

Then turning back to her, Pyotr smiled. “Until then, Valentina, it would seem we are at your disposal seeing how you’re the commander on site.”

Val sighed again. “Unofficially of course.” Unlike the traditional Russian military, their militia had been patterned on Spetnaz and other Special Forces units. Unless she was obviously over her head, the commander on the scene stayed in charge because she best knew the local situation even if someone more senior arrived.

Pyotr kept smiling. “Of course.”

She nodded, taking a deep dive into Slow-Time, considering how Pyotr could best help. He and all of his people were dressed in the concealing black battle dress uniforms with balaclavas favored by Special ops units world wide so there wasn’t anything obviously pointing back to Zolotoye-Yablochko. They were all even carrying weapons as part of their disguise. Not that most of them needed one, least of all Pyotr.

Letting the rest of the world speed back up she clicked her HUD, and was glad to see Maggie’s design let her equipment talk to Pyotr’s. She pointed out where the injured American snipers were. “There’re wounded American soldiers here at these coordinates. If you can transport them here to the waiting medics, as well as keep watch for more incoming trouble, that will be a great help.”

Her brother nodded as he studied the map. Seconds later his people were busy as he set them their tasks. “I do hope you know what you’re doing.”

Val feeling the additional responsibility settle upon her replied, “So do I Pyotr. So do I.”

To be Continued.