Hurricane Katrina is known as the United State’s most costly and deadly natural disaster. The tropical storm rated as the sixth-strongest Atlantic hurricane claiming 1,836 lives, with hundreds more missing.
The numbers and immediate threat here paled by comparison. What is one life to thousands? Perhaps it was everything. Hope. Survival.
The elements alone could not hope to cleanse the wrong.
Maybe ten bodies littered these woods yet this storm would have to reach biblical proportions and incur God’s wrath to rid the world of the prevailing evil. Indeed, two good men may no longer exist. Dense brushwood was thick enough to cover a multitude of sins. The rain forming an effective curtain blocking out sight and sound, turning the hard ground into sludge underfoot. Obliterating trails. Isolating the lost. In an ideal world the rain would cancel play. Here, the battles commenced.
A mechanical roar joined the wild orchestra. Lightning flashed its fury at the man-made intrusion to its splendour. The flare of light cut through the darkness. Possible foes revealed as lacy ferns weeping their despair. Sinister needles and blades returned to their nettle guises in the glare.
Dan brushed his eyes clear with a brusque hand, narrowing cobalt blue eyes and staring up into the deluge. Another flash and his initial sighting was confirmed. A chopper was circling above. It banked hard to the left as it's pilot fought the elements and reached the target.
There’d been another death. One more fatality. One more extraction.
‘Oh God’ Hypocritical to re-find God at such a moment, but Emily was out in this storm. Please God, let it not be Emily zipped in plastic and thrown aboard for disposal.
Dr Emily Harding. One bright spot in the feculent stink titled Fenner Pharmaceutical research Inc. In fairness the problem lay further underground. Daily the esteemed employees trekked to the centre and spent their days doing the meticulous research that might eventually spawn a cure for infections and disease. For all their high intellect and fancy qualifications only a few knew the true focus of the corporation, the rest guileless in pursuit of their Nobel Peace Prize. Of the few informed even fewer knew the truth. Knew how out of control the project was.
A bared to the bones summary of his military past had qualified him for the security job. Security; with keys and passes for the entire compound. First to arrive and last to leave, months of searching had revealed little. No mysterious rooms or alien orbs. Yet, Dan knew there was more to Fenner Inc. He’d seen the results.
Equipment was hi-tech and more advanced than you’d expect. An unknown philanthropist honoured for benevolence and never questioned. It was a place where people disappeared at irregular intervals. You came to recognise the signs, the worried looks and heightened nervousness. Jumping at sudden noises. Bruised eyes of the insomniacs. Those who showed the symptoms generally went away.
Compassionate leave. Extended holiday. Termination of employment. There was little compassion in truth, holidays a myth; chalk white skin far from summer rays. Terminations were final. Very final.
Emily had shown the tension. Eyes a little too wide, smile that touch too solemn. She’d returned from a number of excursions, though always with a faintly haunted look. This time he’d sensed the testing stage was over. The number getting singled out was greater than ever before. More and more were not returning. Too many names whispered in hushed voices by those in the know.
Emily Harding who always took time to meet his eyes. Who would always smile a friendly greeting. Emily was a possible fatality.
Sam had described an iconic figure. Athletic, witty, warm. A lover and friend. It had been a surprise to find her working here. The reality was both more and less than imagined. A real person. She worked hard, dedicated to her cause. Life had taken away the rosy lens of youth and she was too astute to miss all the machinations. Her curiosity and scientist’s need to delve had likely doomed her.
Emily had a smile that shone it brightened otherwise average features to a point of beauty. Laughter lines would crinkled around her eyes showing off her love of life. The occasional silver strand amongst her curls added to her appeal. She was comfortable with herself and needed no paint and artifice to appear other than who she was. The sort of person you could meet for coffee or bump into in a bar and talk away the night, if only you’d the courage to ask.
‘Please God let it not be too late’ Making his silent plea to the grey merciless skies Dan exploded into action. Palming his gun he headed towards where the chopper had descended. Her name was clearly on tonight’s extraction list, but belay that order soldier because Dan would fight to see her out of here alive.
Years of training had him moving quickly though the woods, head down to make less of a target and avoid the slap of wet leaves. Moving silently was not an issue thanks to the mixed blessing that was the rain. Speed formed its own danger with slippery ground refusing purchase to booted feet.
Nearing the extraction point Dan dropped to his belly mindless of the mud. Snaking forward, gun at the ready, he sought answers. His heart was in his throat. The chopper was already starting to take off. Propellers beating furiously as the machine was buffeted by the strong winds. Had to be a strong inducement to make a man fly into this squall, else the pilot was a mad-man.
Two figures sheltered their heads from the chaos of the choppers making. Their camouflage gear announcing their preparation for tonight’s fun and games. And the assault weapons handled freely, showed the confidence of heavy training and familiar use. Both figures were male. Shouted words were hard to make out but he picked up on the signals. More people to find. Another pick-up to check out.
Another Pick-up. Another death then.
One man broke away getting busy with radios updating base and getting briefed in turn. A signal in this storm, a testament to the powerful hi-tech equipment and a wonder of its own. Sheer bad luck had the other man pin-point Dan’s location. The devil looks after his own! The familiar click of a gun trigger being pulled sounded as he got Dan in his sights. Crouching down to make himself a smaller target he let of a shot direct to where Dan stood watching. Had stood. With reflexes born of both practice and sudden adrenaline Dan cartwheeled out of danger. The bullets whizzed past punching holes in the surrounding trees. It was a close call. This guy was no amateur. He was one of the soldiers the corporation commanded.
It wouldn’t pay to wait around and Dan wasn’t about to waste time staring into the sights of a gun. Unassuming in appearance compared to the rocket launchers and phasers of your modern TV heroes, the Uzi nine millimetre can shoot at a rate of sixteen bullets per second and cut a man full grown man in half.
One bullet can kill.
Sometimes lady luck favours the good guys. Radioman returning to investigate the threat stepped to sudden, skidded on wet leaves. He righted himself almost immediately. As distractions go it wasn’t much but Dan didn’t require a lot to work with. Moving quickly he didn’t give Uzi-man time to realign his weapon. To spray the bush with more bullets and make his mark.
His gun was lost to the dodge leaving him with his bare hands as weapons. Surging forward in a move that could well have been fatal he managed a quick grab and sharp twist. The Uzi fell to the floor un-aimed. Radioman valued his radio and other equipment more than his ex-comrade. Not waiting to see the now limp body hit ground he turned and ran. Crashing bushes showing his rapid flight.
The rain and mud had added natural camouflage to Dan’s dark clothing. His face free of military paint was smeared with enough grime to delay identification. Assuming Radioman had paused long enough to try.
Dan moved away. Bringing to mind a map of the grounds he estimated his position best he could and made towards the stream. If he was right it would hopefully get him to the extraction point before reinforcements arrived. Once out of eyes range he got smoothly to his feet and ran the rest of the way, always mindful of danger. Passage was tough but time could be of the essence. Could dictate life and death for himself, and for Emily. Feet sliding he reached a little dell and almost fell on the corpse.
The victim was male. He was dressed as the other two men had been, in cammys. He’d been left to lay face down in the dirt. A quick glance showed him to be dead, the bolt protruding his throat was a give away clue. Not wasting time with emotions, he pushed the man over to identify him. It wasn’t anyone he knew from the lab. Searching him with a deft impersonal touch he found the man unarmed, a spare clip of ammo in the cargo pants suggested this hadn’t always been true. No id. That would have been too convenient a break from protocol. The only personal items were a pack of gum and a slip of paper. The gum mint. The note basic to the supreme, a computer run off.
Standard white paper torn roughly along perforations and folded twice. No flashy fonts and graphics but your basic dot matrix print. A date, today. A time, for earlier this evening. And the location, here. There was an emblem or symbol, hard to decipher due to smudged prints. A child’s sketch or cubist dream of an angel with fallen halo. Face covered by a grinning skull mask. It was however the one word directive that chilled the blood and made the heart beat faster. For a game with guns that held lives in the balance, it was callous and inhuman.
‘Enjoy!’