X war infestation, p.29
X WAR: Infestation, page 29
Suyin started to cry as she hugged him tightly. “No, please don’t do this!”
Wu pushed her away as he could barely keep his emotions in check. “No more tears. There is no time. Go now. When you read my letter it will explain everything.”
Suyin placed her hand over her mouth to muffle the moans as she turned around, opened the door and left the room. Wu silently cursed to himself as he walked back behind his desk and sat down with an exhausted sigh. I could have handled that better, but I’ve run out of time.
Minutes passed. Wu looked at his watch when he saw some movement in the twilit garden from the window inside the study. Straining his eyes, he could see his daughter opening an old iron door overgrown with vines before leading her mother past the threshold and into the adjoining garage.
A sense of relief came over him as he saw the hidden door close, once again concealing itself amongst vegetation. He had locked eyes with his daughter for one last time and smiled, just before she disappeared from sight. Twisting his office chair to face the door, he waited.
The entryway opened again. Peizhi stood back as three men entered the study. Wu recognized the one shuffling in the middle as he looked over their shoulders and winked twice at his housekeeper. Peizhi nodded before closing the entryway.
Gang Xie’s whole body seemed to wobble. He gave Wu a glassy eyed stare. “Good evening, Director. I have... just arrived... from Ordos... to speak... with you.”
“Congratulations on your recent promotion, Xie,” Wu said calmly, preferring to let it all play out. “I heard that you are now the chief assistant to the Minister of Public Security. What brings you directly to my home at such a late hour?”
Xie’s shoulders swayed back and forth, as if trying to maintain a sense of balance, even though he was standing on solid ground. “I am here... to insist... that you... accompany us.”
“Oh? To where?”
“I am... to bring you... to Ordos. Our beloved... president wants to... speak with you.”
Wu shook his head apologetically. “I’m so sorry, but I have so much work to do here in our nation’s capital. Can I meet with him later in the week perhaps?”
“This is... not... a request.”
Wu nodded as he slowly got up to his feet. “Very well. Can I pack some luggage, at least?”
“No... you come... with us... now.”
“Alright,” Wu said as he bowed slightly in order to reach into his desk drawer. The second bodyguard shouted in alarm while pulling out his QSZ-92 pistol from his shoulder holster. Wu grabbed his own pistol and hip fired, hitting Xie twice in the torso before aiming and shooting at the first bodyguard, the bullet entering the young man’s forehead, killing him instantly.
The second bodyguard fired his service weapon, the 9mm round lodging itself into Wu’s abdomen, just above his belly button. The MSS director fell sideways as he fired two more shots, hitting the second MPS agent in the chest. The bodyguard also dropped to the floor with a pained groan.
It felt like a blunt spear had been thrust into his stomach, but Wu fought off the effects of traumatic shock as he began crawling towards the edge of the desk, hoping to get a clear view of his adversaries. Each breath he took brought a dose of sharpened pain along his nervous system, yet he remained lucid.
Inching his way to a near wall, Wu cringed as more shots rang out, and parts of the mahogany office desk in front of him began to splinter. A 9mm round penetrated through the wooden paneling before ricocheting into his shoulder. Wu yelped in pain from the additional wound but he refused to give up as he willed his body to keep moving.
When he finally crept past the edge of the desk, he could see the second bodyguard was still alive and on his knees. The younger man apparently wore some kind of armored vest, and he was painfully trying to reach into his suit coat, looking to reload a fresh magazine into his now empty pistol.
Wu’s hand was shaking uncontrollably, and it took all of his concentration to aim and squeeze off two more shots. The first round hit the second bodyguard in his jaw while the second bullet tore through the side of his neck. The young man slumped sideways, gurgling out his dying breaths with foamy splatters of crimson.
Biting on his tongue to keep himself conscious, Wu forced himself onto a sitting position, using the wall as a backrest. He heard a spongy noise coming from close by, and he turned his head to try and find out where it was coming from.
Xie’s dead eyes stared back at him as the corpse’s mouth suddenly opened and a mind worm slithered out, its glassy body specked with blood. The creature began using its spines to slowly crawl its way towards the last living man in the room.
Wu brought up the pistol and fired. The first shot missed wildly, and impacted against the first bodyguard’s cadaver. He fired again, and the second round lodged itself into a painting hung beside the doorway.
His vision was starting to blur, yet the creature was so close he could practically smell its presence. Wu took deep, painful breaths in order to calm down and make a better shot. Holding the gun with both hands was extremely painful due to the wound in his shoulder, but he figured it was the best way to aim. Squeezing the trigger, he let off another round. This time the mind worm exploded into a million shards less than a second later.
Wu looked up at the ceiling and made a grim smile before he placed the pistol’s barrel into his mouth and pulled the trigger one last time.
59 Mongolia
PIPER STARED AT THE huge painting hanging precariously on the faded wall inside the derelict hall. One of the hinges that had kept the artwork level had fallen off, and the abstract scenes showing Soviet martial prowess now tilted diagonally, transforming the once overtly patriotic message it conveyed into an ironic one.
Although Derek was standing beside her, his eyes were looking out past the broken windows of the abandoned building they were in, silently observing the numerous military support teams erecting communications and radar equipment in the sandy courtyard beyond.
They had arrived several hours before. Located a few kilometers north of Choir, Bayantal Air Base had been abandoned by the Soviet forces decades before. Now it felt like the installation had suddenly come back to life when the whole area was cordoned off and the airlift started, continuing on even after the sun had gone down.
The boy kept staring out past the window as the sounds of incoming transport aircraft continued to boom overhead. “There’s someone sneaking around just outside the door.”
Piper turned. Using her telepathy, she instantly sensed a man standing just beyond the corridor leading to the building’s main foyer. “You’d better come out, or else my brother is going to give you a splitting headache that you won’t ever forget.”
The man moved from beyond the shadows and stood by the doorway. “Good evening. My name is Yevgeny Samsonov, but my friends call me Zhenya.”
Derek didn’t even bother to look at him, and instead continued to stare out past the window. “We know.”
Piper nodded. “You’re the head of this FSB thingy, and you’re wondering if we detected you by your footsteps or through other means.”
Samsonov was impressed. “So you both can read my mind? Very good.”
“Now you’re remembering what you’ve read about when that French lady gave you our details.”
Derek finally turned around while gesturing with his hand. “And you want to see if we’re the real thing, right? Well, here you go.”
Samsonov gasped as one of the old paintings along the wall to his right suddenly detached itself from its hinges and began to float in the air, drifting towards him.
The Russian took a few panicked steps back as the hovering artwork suddenly thrust itself just half a meter away from his face before some unseen force crumpled both the canvas and frame like a piece of paper before letting the bundle drop to the ground.
“Is that proof enough for you?” Piper asked coolly.
Samsonov quickly recomposed himself. “Although my president has given the green light to this operation, the ultimate responsibility will be on me. And if this fails, then—”
“You’ll be facing a firing squad,” Piper finished for him. “That’s a heck of a way to motivate someone.”
Samsonov smiled as he took out and unfolded an ushanka fur cap from beneath his coat and placed it over his head. “I am Russian. That is how we do things in my country.”
Derek frowned. “That hat you put on—it’s got something that’s keeping your mind from being probed.”
The Russian nodded. “Since you have passed the test with flying colors, I would prefer to keep my thoughts private from now on, da?”
“You just better not try anything to me or my brother,” Piper said tersely. “If you do then we’ll fight back in ways which you won’t even believe.”
Samsonov chuckled as he held his hands up in a gesture of peace. “Do not be afraid. We are not even in Russia, so I am a guest here just like you. I swear that I mean no harm to you both.”
“Is that why you put that hat on?”
“If you want to know what I am thinking about then I shall tell you. My thoughts are about my family, my people, and my country. That I swear to you is the truth.”
“So now what?”
Samsonov pointed with his chin towards an adjoining corridor. “I would like you both to look at something. It is on the Russian controlled area of this base.”
Piper looked at Derek, who shrugged with indifference, before she turned her attention back to Samsonov. “Okay, but this better not be a trick.”
“Of course not,” the Russian said as he pivoted and made his way out of the room.
QYSS WALKED BY THE runway until he reached the entrance to one of the adjoining hangars. Task Force Zero had been allocated all of the hardened buildings south of the old airfield, while the Russians and Mongolians began to set up their own units and equipment at the northern set of hangars.
He had spent the last few hours wandering around just outside of the building entrances, since he disliked the smell of their interiors. Dozens of cots and a mess hall had been set up in one of the main barracks at the middle of the base, but it would have meant that he walk half a kilometer back and forth since the Humvees hadn’t arrived yet, and he preferred to stay close to headquarters in case he was needed.
Colonel Wegener came out from one of the nearby sheds and called out to him.
Qyss quickly closed the distance, squinting to keep the dust out of his eyes as another US Air Force C-17 Globemaster landed and began to taxi down the runway. “Colonel, what can I do for you?”
“I just got a call from our command HQ in Virginia,” Wegener said. “The operation is a go and will commence tomorrow at dusk.”
“Okay. I’ll tell the others.”
“Master Sergeant, I am well aware that we have a shortage of officers to go with the assault teams for this mission. How are Captain Ranford and Captain Popov treating the men?”
“With all due respect, Colonel—those two are idiots. Popov wants to reassign the squadrons by country, and that moronic SEAL lifeguard wants us all to have the same weapons—so we can use each other’s ammo in an emergency, he says.”
“I understand. Since Captain Burgin’s demise, those two were chosen as co-commanders on the ground for the assault teams,” Wegener said.
“Laurel and Hardy were just accepted into the unit a few days ago, sir. They have no experience leading the teams, not even for a training exercise. I’m not confident going into battle with those two clowns leading us.”
Wegener placed his hands on his hips and nodded. “You’re right. They both will be under a new commanding officer on the ground.”
Qyss raised an eyebrow. “Who will that be, sir?”
“I am going with you,” Wegener said. “This could very well be the toughest fight we’ll come up against, so I figure we’ll have better odds if I lend a hand too.”
“We’d be glad to have you, sir!”
The GSG 9 colonel grinned as he patted the Delta Force operator on the shoulder. “I’ve passed the fitness reports, so hopefully I won’t slow you young men down.”
THE NORTHERN END OF the base was equally busy. Russian Army transport vehicles continued to churn up sand as they rumbled through the armed checkpoints before parking themselves behind several hangars.
Samsonov led Piper and her brother out from the main buildings in the middle of the base until they reached the inner airstrip. The Russian kept moving until all three of them got to the northernmost hangar facing the concrete tarmac.
Piper pursed her lips. Unlike the other nearby sheds, no lights had been activated around this one. The massive doors leading into the reinforced building’s interior were slightly ajar, and she couldn’t see what was inside of it. “I told you, no tricks.”
As Derek began to tense up, Samsonov once again raised his hands calmingly. Pulling a walkie-talkie out from underneath his coat, he activated the device and started speaking in Russian.
The interior lights within the hangar instantly turned on. From the outside, Piper could see it housed a very large crate sitting in the middle of the room.
Derek unclenched his fists as his demeanor changed from prepared defensiveness to guarded curiosity. “I can feel something is in there now, but I’m not sure what it is.”
Samsonov began to walk through the opening while gesturing at the two of them to follow. “I wanted you both to see it first.”
Piper was about to tell her brother to be careful, but after observing Derek entering the hangar willingly, she decided to tag along.
Newly installed portable lighting had cast a spotlight over what looked to be a massive metallic box that had been placed in the center. Piper sensed that the container seemed to have been constructed by welding together more than fifty shipping crates in order to house something huge.
Two Russian soldiers by the entrance stood to attention and saluted as Samsonov gestured at a team of six men in work overalls who were operating a heavy forklift with an attached crane. He once again spoke in Russian, and the engineers began using the industrial crane to lift the side of the box open.
Piper let out a deep breath as the inside of the huge container was finally revealed. A saucer-shaped craft made of shiny black metal lay inside. She figured it must have been at least ten meters in diameter.
Turning to her right, she could see that Derek had a blank look on his face. It seemed like her brother was mesmerized by the sudden revelation of the strange vessel.
Samsonov gave them a smug look. “So now it is my turn to prove that my country is trustworthy, da?”
Derek looked out of breath as the words barely came out of his mouth. “How... did you get that?”
“We found it inside one of the buildings in Perm after we took back the city a few months ago,” Samsonov said. “Since we were aware that the Americans and the West hid some of their own scientific breakthroughs from us, we decided to do research on this object by ourselves.”
Piper nodded. “The container you built to bring this over here—it’s made out of lead, isn’t it?”
“Da. Yes.”
“So that’s why Derek and me couldn’t detect it while we walked over here.”
The boy glanced at Samsonov. “What did your scientists find out?”
The Russian looked down. “They... failed. No one has been able to unlock its secrets. All we know is that the hull of this... spacecraft is impervious to fire or bullets.”
Derek started laughing. “You tried shooting at it and burning it down?”
Samsonov blushed in shame. “None of that was my idea.”
Piper scoffed. “So what do you want us to do? Open it up for you so you can use it against America?”
“Nyet. This is our contribution to this operation,” the Russian said to her before looking towards her brother. “I read in the reports that you were able to control a similar craft that Task Force Zero had captured in Seattle, da?”
Derek tried to appear nonchalant. “More or less. I helped a traitor to fly that one using my mind, but I wasn’t inside of it.”
“Since we cannot make any headway with figuring out how to work it, then you may use this vessel during the strike at Ordos City,” Samsonov said. “All that we ask is that you return it to us if you can.”
Both siblings looked at each other and began laughing uncontrollably.
60 Washington, DC
PERRY WAS ON HIS SECOND cup of coffee while sitting inside the crowded main conference room. He had not had a chance to sleep, and his mind was only half awake at four in the morning. Every time I’m invited down here the stakes just seem to get higher, yet we’ve been able to pull through so far. I just hope we can do it again, he thought.
All the senior officers of the Cabinet were present, with the exception of Reese Fulton and the president himself. One of the senior staffers had told him that the two were now on their way down to the conference room and would be there any minute.
Perry tapped his fingers on the closed folder in front of him. He knew most of the others seated in the room, but one man in particular worried him—General Clyde Weaver, who sat at the opposite end of the table. He’s representing USSTRATCOM, Perry thought, referring to the military’s US Strategic Command. A nuclear exchange could be a distinct possibility if there’s a screw up in this operation, and he’ll be advising the president on it.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. When Perry turned, he saw a standing Mark Holder looking down at him and offering his hand. “This is the first time I’ve been able to see you since the attack in Utah. Sorry to hear about Mitchell Strunk. He was a good man.”
Perry shook the Director of Intelligence’s hand. “Thanks, Mark.”
“How’s Jane doing?”
“She’s been released from the hospital and is now resting at home, thanks.”
Holder nodded before moving away and resuming his seat at the other end of the table.
