Bug out california book.., p.19
Bug Out! California Book 16: Darkness to Light, page 19
“You do any checking on the DBS?” Creighton asked.
“Yep, been checking the video system hourly, and again just now. Nobody stuck a bug on her. A couple people stood and admired her for a moment. Can’t blame them for that.”
The elevator doors opened into the parking structure, and they entered the car, Langston getting into the driver’s seat.
“Sure I don’t get to drive?” Creighton asked.
“Maybe later,” Langston said as he started the engine, which settled into a slow throbbing rumble as it warmed up. “Page Russell. Hit that phone icon on the screen. He’s the first one on the list.”
Creighton nodded, reaching over and touching the icon. Russell’s face showed up after a moment.
“Good, you’re in the car,” Russell said. “The others are on site?”
“Yes. They’ll be at the Embassy no later than 1:30 EST.”
“Perfect. We don’t have great surveillance, but it’s good enough to watch the doors. It appears none of our quarry have left the building so far.”
“Good,” Langston said as he drove onto 7th Avenue, going south. “Traffic isn’t as bad as it used to be in this town.”
“That’s for sure,” Creighton said. “Think anybody will notice all the flies? Maybe we should space out the release a little.”
“Decide that on the ground,” Russell said. “I’ll let you go, but we’ll be watching. Already have the URL for the bundle of cameras. How many will you release?”
“Ten thousand in each building,” Langston said.
“They were talking twenty thousand yesterday in the meeting,” Russell said, his brow furrowed.
“They’re being noticed in FBI Headquarters,” Creighton said.
“Noticed as bugs?”
Creighton shook his head. “No sir, noticed as insects. They’re thinking about calling an exterminator.”
Russell laughed. “Oh. That might make problems for us.”
“They decided against it,” Langston said. “Too hard to let contractors in right now.”
“Here comes our left turn,” Langston said. “Feels weird driving on this side. Glad we aren’t doing any serious operations in this car.” He made the turn onto 48th Street.
“Well don’t relax just yet, we sent that for a reason. There’s already been chatter about your being in Manhattan. Remember that they’ve seen the car, too, at the hangar.”
“Blimey,” Creighton said. “This thing is bullet-proof, right?”
“Yes, and she’s got some very vigorous counter-measures. Very vigorous indeed. Langston’s been checked out.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t let me drive,” Creighton quipped.
“Join Mi6 and you’ll get your chance,” Russell said with a twinkle in his eye.
Langston burst out laughing. “Nice recruiting point, boss.”
“There you have it,” Russell said. “Cheerio. Don’t get killed.”
“We’ll do our best,” Creighton said. The video feed stopped.
“I’m kinda hoping we do get messed with,” Langston said.
“What’s to stop them from simply killing us when we enter the Embassy?”
“They think we don’t know what’s going on there, and we have a reason for going,” Langston replied. “If any of them survive, they might try to take us on the way out.” A red light came on at 3rd Avenue, Langston stopping the car behind three others.
Creighton shook his head. “Naw, any wankers that survive will want to disappear, not mess with us.”
There was a snap on the driver’s side window, leaving a scratch, then another snap and another scratch right next to it.
“We’ve just been shot at, mate,” Creighton said, as an electric motor spun to life in the ceiling of the car. “What’s that? Somebody trying to saw in?”
Langston smiled, nodding to the screen, which showed a cross-hair display. Several small clicks went off, a split second later a window far above them to the left blew out, people rushing for cover on the sidewalk as glass fell.
“Bloody hell, what was that?” Creighton asked.
“Audio sensors determine where the bullets came from, and send exploding projectiles to that location,” Langston said. “Anybody who was in that room is dead now.”
“Hope they were all bad.”
They heard several more snaps, two hitting the rear window, one hitting the front windshield, the audio gun going off again, more windows blowing out above them. People on the sidewalk screamed as they ran for cover.
The light changed, the cars moving forward quickly, drivers in front of them anxious to leave the area. Langston took off.
“How many more blocks?” Creighton asked.
“The Embassy is on the far end of this block,” Langston said. “We’ll turn right on 2nd Avenue, then right again on 47th Street into the parking structure.”
“This gonna be safe there?”
“Quit worrying,” Langston said as he rounded the corner onto 2nd Avenue. “More traffic down here. I’m surprised, with the UN Headquarters gone.”
“Good riddance,” Creighton said as they crawled with the traffic, finally getting to 47th Street and making the right. The driveway for the parking garage was close to the corner. Langston drove inside, flashing his badge to the attendant, who waved him through.
They drove down a couple levels and found a parking place close to the elevators. “This will do,” Langston said.
Just as they were about to get out, they heard two more snaps, both hitting the front windshield, the audio gun firing immediately, hitting a work van, blowing up inside.
“Crap, is that gonna start on fire down here?”
“Nope, just shrapnel,” Langston said. “These are very small anti-personnel rounds, designed not to do a lot of damage to the surroundings. Let’s go.”
They slipped out of the car and rushed to the elevator, each carrying small metal drone boxes and their PPLs, eyes darting around as they got to the bank of elevator doors. Langston used his ID to enter the elevator, and they rode it up to the 2nd Floor.
“Where to now?” Creighton asked.
“Stairwell, a few steps to the right,” Langston replied as they left the elevator. “We’ll let the drones loose there. Alex and I set up the programming for the building. After we release these, we’ll go back downstairs and move to the second bank of elevators.”
“Got it,” Creighton said. “I’ll hold the door ajar while you release.”
They entered the stairwell door, Langston getting to work with his box of drones, checking the programming first and then pushing the release button, the black cloud of flies coming out, slipping past Creighton into the hallway. Langston set the box down next to some plumbing that ran up the wall, and the two men rushed back to the elevator after the flies were released, riding it down to the parking structure.
“You’re not worried about somebody messing with our device?” Creighton asked.
“Kinda looks like a rodent trap,” Langston said. “They put those in spots like that all the time.”
“True.”
The elevator doors opened onto the parking structure level they came from, and they left, rushing between cars to the matching bank of elevators about forty yards away, then riding an elevator up to the second floor in that side of the facility.
“Same thing again,” Langston said, glancing at Creighton. “The stairwell is in the same place relative to the elevators.”
The elevators opened, two women walking by as they stepped out.
“Excuse me, are you lost?” asked one of the women.
“Nope, thank you,” Langston said, the woman seeming to relax when she heard his accent.
“There a snack room around here?” Creighton asked.
“You’re from London?” she asked.
“Yep, here for some meetings,” Langston said.
“Great, welcome to New York. Go down this hallway to the end and turn right. There’s a snack room with vending machines half-way down.”
“Thanks,” Creighton said. The two women rounded the corner.
“Nice job,” Langston said. “You’re good at putting the locals at ease.”
“That’s one thing about my job at the Yard,” Creighton said. “You learn how to do that.”
They slipped into the stairwell, Creighton handing the drone box to Langston, who checked the programming, started the release, and set the box down next to some plumbing. The flies flowed out the crack of the door as Creighton held it. “Now we wait. Let’s go to the lobby. We’re supposed to check in at the front desk, and there’s a coffee shop down there.”
“They got tea?” Creighton asked.
“Probably.” They got back into the elevator and rode to the lobby, walking to the counter, showing their IDs.
“Ah, welcome,” the man behind the counter said. “Official business?”
“Yes, we need to check in with Mr. Ferguson, chief of security.”
“Righto, I’ll just ring him up. Please have a seat over there.” He pointed to a waiting area with black leather couches and chairs.
“Is this guy good or bad?” Creighton whispered.
“Bad.”
“We’re gonna plug him?”
Langston eyed him, not saying anything.
“All right then.”
The man from the front desk came over. “He’ll see you now. You’re lucky, he was on his way out of the office. Some big emergency going on. Turn right at the first hallway past the counter. You’ll have to use your ID cards to enter, of course.”
“Thank you,” Langston said, getting up, Creighton nodding at the man as they walked by.
“Get your pistol handy,” Langston whispered. “You put the silencer on like I said, right?”
“Way ahead of you, mate.”
Langston used his card to unlatch the door, then stood back and pushed it open, several clicks going off, bullets going through the door and hitting the wall behind them, punching through the drywall. Langston rolled to the ground, firing his pistol, hitting the shooter in the chest then rolling away, Creighton running through the door and hitting a second man, then rushing into the office, the chief of security cowering in the corner.
“I’ll talk,” he said, Langston getting there and shooting him twice in the head, the body slumping to the floor behind the massive desk.
“Go drag the other two in here while I cover you,” Langston said, Creighton rushing out into the deserted hallway, grabbing the first man who wasn’t yet dead. He dropped him next to the desk, Langston plugging him in the head as Creighton got the other body.
“This one’s dead, mate,” Creighton said, pulling him towards the other two.
Langston saw keys on the desk and picked them up, following Creighton out the door and closing it, then trying keys till he found the right one to lock it. “Let’s check the other rooms in this hall.” They checked each, all the other rooms empty.
“I want to stay in this room and check the drones,” Langston said, shutting the door and locking it, then taking out his phone and loading the drone video program. “I’ll do this side of the facility, you do the other.”
Creighton nodded, looking at his phone. “Says all the drones are placed successfully.”
“Yeah, this side isn’t quite done yet. Some bugs still in transit.”
“I’ve got the grid up. Lots of people scurrying around. Think they figured out what’s going on?”
“Maybe,” Langston said. “Send a text to Sam and the others. Tell them to come now.”
“How are they getting in?”
“They’re on the schedule. Maintenance of the internet system, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” Creighton said. “What should we do while we’re waiting?”
“Watch the drone video, and go hunting if we see evidence of people getting ready to leave. Hit the programmed grid after a good look around.”
“Programmed grid? What’s that?”
“We had some decent intel. The programmed grid will display the offices of the problem people and the hallways nearby. Alex helped me set that up this morning.”
Creighton nodded, browsing through the screens.
“Ah, the placements are complete in this side of the facility.” They both studied their screens for over a half hour, getting an idea of where the population was throughout the building.
Creighton looked up from his phone. “Uh oh, men checking weapons from a closet on the fourth floor. Room 4219. How soon till the others arrive?”
“Any minute, but let’s go get these guys now, before they scatter,” Langston said. They rushed back to the elevator, riding it down, Creighton still watching his phone as they went.
“They still there?” Langston asked as they got to the parking structure.
“Yeah, and more showed up. There are eight or nine blokes in there now. They’re loading the guns. All of them are scared shitless. They don’t look like they’re in a hurry.”
“Russell told me this facility was very light on protection, and that some of the operatives would likely be manning weapons.”
“That means they won’t be very good,” Creighton said.
“Probably, but watch yourself.” They rushed to the other elevators, riding one up to the fourth floor, slipping into the quiet hallway.
“Around that next corner,” Creighton said, pausing to take out his PPL and unfold it, turning it on. Langston did the same.
“They’re just staying in there?” Langston asked as he watched for the ready light on his weapon.
“Yeah, I think they’re waiting there to be called into action,” Creighton said. “Think they know about the other team coming?”
“That’d be my guess,” Langston said.
“Hello,” Creighton said, eyes on his screen. “They just got word. They’re standing up. Bugger, they’re coming this way!”
Suddenly they could hear gunfire from someplace else in the building. “Our friends, I suspect,” Langston said, dropping to prone position, his PPL aimed at the hallway, Creighton finding a spot a few feet away, his PPL aimed at the corner.
“Exploding rounds first, in the midst of them,” Creighton said. “Then selective fire.”
“Yeah,” Langston said.
The first of the men rounded the corner, stopping in a panic when they saw the PPLs aimed at them.
“Watch it!” yelled one of them, but it was too late, the rest of the men rounding the corner, Creighton and Langston ranging and firing exploding bullets into the midst of them, five of them hit hard, falling to the ground. The others ducked back around the corner.
“C’mon,” Creighton said, blasting the men on the ground, then sending another exploding bullet after four men who were running towards the armory closet, knocking out two, the other two making it around the corner. Langston fired several exploding rounds into the closet as they ran, Creighton getting to the door, finishing the men off as the sound of gunfire ramped up.
Langston eyed the closet, still full of weapons, held neatly in racks against the wall. “Wow, that’s quite an arsenal.”
“Yeah, I see another team of men on the way, but they’re on the fifth floor. Not yet armed. Just made the stairwell.”
“Go around the corner and wait for them, while I lock this up.”
“How are you gonna lock that up?”
Langston grinned, pulling a small box from his pocket, taking out a shiny silver strip of metal. He shut the armory door, then slipped the metal into the key hole.
“Blimey, more spy stuff,” Creighton quipped.
“Get to that corner,” Langston said as he pulled out his phone, loaded an app, and pushed a button, the metal strip flashing, molten metal oozing out of the keyhole. He joined Creighton by the corner, the men rushing out of the stairwell, hit with exploding rounds, four men falling, the others running the other way, Creighton hitting them with laser marks, the bullets chasing them around a corner, bodies thudding to the floor.
{ 17 }
Time’s Up
Sam was behind the wheel of the van, pulling up to the guard booth of the parking structure at the British Consulate. “We’re on the schedule to work a network issue.” He pulled out his paperwork and handed it to the guard.
“You’re on the schedule, but we can’t let you in,” the guard said, his hand near his sidearm. “We’re on lockdown. You’ll have to reschedule.”
“Sorry, that’s not happening,” Sam said.
The guard pulled his weapon, Sam opening fire with the pistol that was on his lap. The guard fell dead, and Sam drove the van forward, busting through the gate arm.
“We need to block the exit,” Ned said. “Let’s hot-wire a couple vehicles and park them in the entry and exit lanes.”
“Yeah,” Dick said. “Park this thing. You sure that guard is dead?”
“Hit him in the forehead,” Sam said as he parked, Erica out first with her ornate AK-47, looking around as Ned and Dick piled out, running for the first group of cars. Sam got out, checking his PPL, then eyeing Erica. “You gonna use one of these?”
“I have mine, but I’d rather use this,” she said. “I can move better with it.”
“Suit yourself,” Sam said, as a car started, Ned driving a big sedan into the exit lane, then getting out and shooting all four tires. Dick got his started a moment later, driving it into the entrance lane and doing the same thing.
“That ought to hold things for a while,” Ned said as they walked towards the elevators. “Make contact with our Brit friends?”
“Yeah, they’re on the move,” Sam said, watching his phone as they walked. “Whoa, I see where they’re going. We got some security folks in the armory on the fourth floor of the north building. They either know that Creighton and Langston are inside, or they saw us coming.”
“Or both,” Erica said, her eyes darting around. “Look out. To your left.” She rushed forward between some cars, opening fire at several security men who were running towards them, killing them all. “If that’s the best they have, this is gonna be a cake walk.”
“Never say that,” Ned said.
“Yeah, we’re gonna run into some good resistance,” Sam said. “Let’s take the stairs to the lobby.”
