July 5, 2076
Council Headquarters
Location Unknown

Michael Samuelson watched his son’s team move off in their newly liberated convoy, but only for a moment. As the large, armoured vehicles trundled down the tarmac towards the end of the airfield, Michael knew he had to buy them more time. They might get the VAULT inside the perimeter, thanks to the missile defense codes he had provided, but getting out would be a whole different ball game. 

The Council had been very careful about their defensive strategy. They had purchased the airfield nearly two decades ago, thanks to private money funneled in from several members well situated in corporate America. After the airfield, they had purchased the rest of the land for miles around, voluntarily closing it as a private nature reserve. It was a move lauded by the local government and environmental groups alike and the public relations arm of the Council kept any inquiries into the state of affairs beyond the fences to the minimum, whether by deception or bribery.

Nearly 15 years of construction, all by firms owned or operated by Council member subsidiaries of course, led to the creation of the labyrinth beneath the airfield. The defense emplacements were constructed with care, under the guise of being research stations for investigating flora and fauna in the region. Outside researches were even brought in, though they never suspected the subterranean Surface-to-Air Missile batteries that sat on their motorized launch pads just feet below the small, grass covered bunkers.

In the course of the few months Michael had played captive-cum-security chief, a role he had been loath to accept, but forced to under threat of his children’s lives, he had learned all there was to know about the base and its security concerns. The major folly of the Council had been their arrogance in planning. They had thought it impossible for a breakout to occur. After all, they had threatened Michael with the lives of his children, there was no way he would attempt a breakout, not when they had his son in a holding cell. He fervently hoped Rachel had managed to find safety, whether through one of his contacts who was tracking her whereabouts, or perhaps in the anonymity of the chaos that gripped the fractured nation. Alex at least was a soldier, he was trained to defend himself. Rachel would only have her wits and the possibility of some aid from strangers that she didn’t even know were following her.

Michael pushed aside the thoughts of Rachel and Alex. He couldn’t help her, no matter how much he wanted to, and he could only help Alex if he reached the control center in time. The staccato beat of his boots pounded against the hard surface of the tarmac as he followed the painted outlines of the marked path that led to the control center. The sounds of the subterranean alarms still blared, though now faintly, as they echoed up through one or the other of the hidden foot entrances and ventilation shafts. Michael didn’t know if the rest of the security team knew of his inclusion in the breakout. If they did, things were about to get complicated. As he approached the metal staircase that led up to the control center, a figure silently moved from within the building.

“Well, well, Samuelson,” Richard Malwood chuckled. “I knew you were not to be trusted. Looks like I’ll win a few bets as to the length of your loyalty. I should thank you really. This will improve my standing quite a bit with Jordan. She will reward me for my instincts, though not nearly as much as she will for recapturing you son and executing him on national television.” 

His cruel eyes tightened in grim mirth. Michael clenched his fists tightly around the grip of the rifle he carried, but he showed no other physical sign of anger.

“So this is it then, Malwood?” Michael asked, looking up. “Are you going to call in my own security teams? Do you really think they’ll answer to you? For all they know, you let the prisoners escape so you could fetch them back. A little political gambit, creating a situation to reward yourself.” He cocked a smirk at the man above him.

“Heavens no, I wouldn’t call in your own security team to apprehend you,” Richard Malwood replied. “No, I have my own men for that. Not that it will matter much, after tonight. When I’ve killed you, I’ll graciously accept your old office, added onto mine or course, and your men will be my men. Then I will kill your son. And perhaps I’ll track down that lovely daughter of yours, what was her name? Ah yes, Rachel. My wife was tragically killed in the attack on Washington yesterday. Such a shame, she produced two strong sons for me.” He smiled at Michael, leering down from the staircase. “Your family seems to be strong, perhaps your daughter could provide me with a few more strong children.”

“Don’t you dare touch her, you son of a bitch!” Michael snarled, whipping his rifle up and leveling it at Richard Malwood. “I’ll kill you right now where you stand. Settle things here and now.” 

Michael Samuelson wasn’t bluffing. It was one thing to threaten him, to make him help them with their goals. But what Malwood was suggesting crossed every rational fiber of Michael’s being. Richard Malwood was an evil man, he now realized. And evil men had to be put down.

“Aha! So I’ve struck a chord, Samuelson,” Richard Malwood laughed. “Well, this has been very fun, but it’s time I got after your son. Not that they’ll make it very far past the perimeter. Those pesky missile pads, always getting in the way of an escape.” He sneered at Michael, then raised his hands and clapped them once together. “Take him!”

Six men appeared from the shadows under the staircase. Michael had been so focused on Richard that he had failed to account for the newcomers. They fanned out in a semicircle, rifles at the ready. Slowly, one foot at a time, they closed in on him. A glance behind revealed a matching group, more sparsely spaced, but closing the noose from the other end nonetheless. Michael knew there was only one solution for a situation like the one he now faced. He threw his gun to the ground and kicked it towards the guards to the front. They seemed surprised by his apparent surrender and paused in their approach.

“Now there is your first mistake, gentlemen,” he said quietly as he reached into his pocket.

“Watch those hands, sir,” the nearest guard said, still addressing Michael as a superior despite their orders to take him. “I don’t want to have to put a bullet in a patriot.”

Michael quickly withdrew his hand from the pocket, though now it wasn’t empty. He held the grenade palm up, so the men could see what he had. Squeezing the clamp down, he slowly and methodically reach over with his left hand. He watched their eyes watch his hands as his finger slipped into the ring of the pin.

Tick!

The pin popped out, but Michael kept his grip tight on the grenade.

“I would highly recommend that anyone who doesn’t want to meet a sticky end, slowly back up,” Michael said evenly, never taking his eyes from Richard Malwood. “One more threatening gesture, one more word of warning on what I should or shouldn’t do, and I’ll take you all down with me. Your commander, of course, is safely outside the radius of the blast, so he’ll probably live. It’s a shame, really. You’re all good men. I’ve vetted every member of the security personnel on this base, Pride Security or not. You all served honorably in our nation’s defense forces. Not a single dishonorable discharge among you. Not that I can say the same for him.” Richard Malwood seemed to reel back from the biting accusation. Michael carefully moved forward at the same pace as the security team retreated.

“Shoot him!” Malwood shouted, but Michael was already in their heads. One even chanced a glance up at his commander, a sign of insubordination to Richard Malwood that would likely earn the soldier a bullet to the head before the sun rose in the morning. 

Michael kept moving forward. 

“This isn’t Angelfire anymore, Richard,” he called up to Malwood. “You can’t do what you want and expect there to be no consequences. We aren’t the ghosts anymore. And now you’re the target.”

He was almost within range of his target. 

“Kill him now, or I’ll kill every one of your children and wives!” Malwood shrieked in command, but stayed rooted, unwilling, or unable, to show weakness in the eyes of his men. One of the men stopped moving back and took a threatening step forward. 

But the move came too late. 

Michael smiled at the man and nodded, as if to say they had called his bluff. Then he whipped his arm forward, hurling the grenade up towards the second floor of the control center. The security team instantly knew what would come next and they scattered, fearing for their lives. The ground level of the control center was also the above ground arms room, stocked with hundreds of assault rifles and tens of thousands of rounds of ammunition. If any of that went off, there was going to be a lot of shrapnel leaving the building  through the few openings available. Richard Malwood had the sense to dive out of the way of the grenade, no doubt assuming Michael had lobbed it at him. But as he hit the ground, it became apparent Michael’s target hadn’t been Richard at all, but the control center itself.

Michael ignored those around him, as he pulled out his remote security access panel, the one he had stolen from the guards at the lift. His codes were likely locked out already, but the Pride Security team that had been tasked with guarding the elevator also had codes for the missile defense grid. In the case of a breakout, they were the people who would know whether or not to activate the secondary defense grid.

Michael tapped the authentication code in for Richard Malwood, a code he had spent months hacking, but had finally figured out. Military Intelligence was often joked about as an oxymoron, but Michael had real world training in more than just spying. The CIA and Army Intelligence had provided him with training enough to become a more than competent computer hacker, a skill he had been careful to leave off his resume after he left the military, one that even the Council had apparently missed. 

Or simply ignored, he laughed grimly. Angelfire trained us well, but only time will tell how it treats the new generation.

He tapped the center node, sending out the override shutoff signal just moments before the grenade detonated inside the control center. Glass shattered and exploded outward like a giant roadside bomb. Shrapnel, more from the wrecked computer consoles than from the fragmentation grenade, followed the glass. Michael felt the explosion, though he was at a safe enough distance that he was only lightly peppered with the remains of the control center. He could see Richard Malwood had, unfortunately, survived the explosion as well. The sturdy concrete wall around the door had held up easily to the force of the anti-personnel explosive. He looked dazed, but otherwise unharmed. 

“Nothing that can’t be fixed with a little firepower,” Michael grunted, struggling to his feet. He started forward, but stopped suddenly as he felt a sharp pain run up from his leg. Gazing down, he saw a piece of shrapnel has embedded itself just below his groin. Blood seeped from the wound and ran down the limb at a steady trickle. 

“Time’s up, Captain Samuelson. You had a good run, but now it’s time to leave it to the next generation,” he said quietly to himself. He gazed up at the stars, now partially obscured by the smoke of the burning control center. “I’m coming, sweetie. I’ll be along soon.” He shifted his gaze to the form of Richard Malwood who was now struggling up on wobbly knees. “As soon as I finish the last of the day’s business.” 

He slowly raised barrel of the rifle up until it swung slowly back and forth as he tried to steady it with failing strength. Richard Malwood looked down at that instant and saw the barrel, aimed directly for his chest.

BAM!

Richard collapsed for a moment, then chuckled and looked back up at Michael, a triumphant smile on his face. Michael felt something cold, like ice, creep through his chest. He looked down and found the source of the strange sensation. Blood seeped out from where the bullet had punched through the front of his torso. He felt dizzy and vaguely noticed the night was getting darker at the edge of his vision. The assault rifle he had never fired fell from fingers numb and useless. He collapsed sideways, staring up at the stars.

“You lose, Samuelson,” he heard a distant voice shout. “Now who will protect your children, when you’re gone?” 

“My kids don’t need protection from you,” Michael laughed, as flecks of blood spattered from his mouth. He could feel the seconds slipping away as he watched the darkness start closing in from the periphery of his sight. “You’re the one who needs protection from them.” 

His voice gurgled and a distant, analytical part of his mind observed that his lungs were filling with blood. The last of the darkness began to descend toward him as three figured approached and looked down at him.

“I’ll give your regards to your mother, Sebastian,” Michael said quietly as he looked up at Richard, Sebastian, and Jeremy, the three of them standing over Michael imperiously. “She’ll be so proud of her son’s first kill.”

* * *

Alex heard the roar of the explosion even from inside the insulated, armoured vehicle. He didn’t have to look up to know what had happened. The pit in his stomach also made him painfully aware of something else.

“He’s dead,” Alex said quietly, though tears wouldn’t come. “For real this time.”

“You don’t know that, Alex,” Cassie said softly, but her voice betrayed the pit she felt in her own stomach.

“Your old man is just giving mine a run for his money,” Justin said over the intercom from the back of the APC. His voice also carried a hint of sadness. “Hopefully our plan worked. I guess we’ll find out in a few minutes.”

Alex nodded and set about checking his equipment, a task he had always found cathartic. After a few moments of checks, he felt his mind returning to thoughts of his father. It was a cruel twist of fate. Until about thirty minutes ago, Alex had thought his father dead. Now he knew, deep down, he really had just lost him again. The pain bit deep, though it was now tinged with anger and bitterness. He had grieved when he had thought both his parents gone. Now he seethed at the thought of Richard Malwood killing his father. 

“I’ll kill you for taking him from me, you bastard,” Alex whispered to himself. He knew Cassie heard him, but she didn’t show any indication of it. What could she say? There was no way to comfort him with this. The only comfort he would have would be knowing the man responsible for his father’s death was punished. And the woman who was responsible for all of it. “You’re next, Jordan. That’s a promise.”

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his wrist. He looked up and saw Cassie’s face, awash in sadness and grief. But also strength, that strength at her core that had kept her going when they had fought to free themselves from the grasp of the Council. She nodded, though Alex didn’t know if it was to reassure him that it would all turn out for the best, or if to agree that those responsible had to be punished. Or possibly both.

“We’re approaching the pickup point, people, stay alert!” Rock’s voice shouted over the intercom from his place in the lead APC, breaking up Alex and Cassie’s shared moment. Alex smiled reassuringly and squeezed Cassie’s hand once, before turning to face the rest of those inside the bowels of the APC.

“Listen up,” he said, holding the button to broadcast to the other vehicle. “We are running light today, weapons and ammunition only. The VAULT will be picking us up and we need to shed as much weight as possible if we want to get away before they can track us. Whatever defense they had are likely not working after that explosion. If not, well, I’ll see you all on the other side!” He laughed, a genuine sound of camaraderie, as those in both APCs let out a cheer, warriors laughing in the face of Death himself.

“They needed that,” Cassie said with a nod of approval.

“So did I,” Alex smiled sheepishly.

Moments later the APCs screeched to a halt. Alex readied himself. As soon as he felt the vehicle lurch back to a full stop, he jerked open the door of the APC, rifle held in one hand, ready to fire of a spray of bullets at any enemies who may have followed them. When no enemies presented themselves, Alex took up a defensive stance at the back of the vehicle while the rest of the team filed out. Cassie was the last one out, as she patted Alex on the back to signal everyone was clear. He backed up, his eyes continually scanning the road leading away from the airfield.

“Where the hell is the VAULT?” he heard someone yell from behind him. A chorus of annoyance rose up and Alex chanced a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, they had stopped at an empty airstrip, the meeting area Cassie and Michael Samuelson had designated for the extraction. 

“We’re two minutes ahead of schedule, Rogers, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Cassie shouted at the man. A new chorus, this one of laughter, rose up as the men around Rogers chuckled at Cassie’s jab. Alex even saw the man himself smile and nod to Cassie, who had taken on a sort of second-in-command role since the breakout. “What are you all standing around for? If they sent anyone to follow us, we’ll be sitting ducks! I want these APCs drawn up together so we can use them for shielding. Rogers, Daniels, Williamson, Wilson, grab a scope if you don’t have one. Slide open the firing ports and get ready to provide covering fire if things get hot!”

Alex watched as the men immediately jumped into action, despite being given orders by a 17 year old girl, or the fact that many of them had twice her age and experience. Cassie exuded a confidence and authority that Alex had always admired, and one he was happy to rely on at the moment. The vehicles were quickly turned to face perpendicular to the road that approached the airstrip. The four men Cassie had designated for cover fire climbed into their assigned vehicles and drew open the small, acrylic firing slots which were designed to allow snipers to pick out targets from behind the protection of the APC’s armor plating. Alex glanced at his watch. 

“Four minutes behind schedule, where the hell is she?” Alex said quietly.

“VAULT Alpha, inbound for extraction!” Karyn Sorenson shouted into Alex’s comm system suddenly. “Drop flair for landing position and prepare for extraction, over.”

“We’re in business, everyone, get ready to move out!” Alex shouted, pulling a green flare from his combat webbing. 

He popped of the tip and ignited the flare before throwing it into the middle of the airstrip. The landing area would be far enough from them to not clip the APCs, but close enough that the vehicles would still proved adequate cover while the rest of the team boarded. Another cheer went up, but quickly died down to a murmur as the soldiers waited tensely, many of them watching the road approaching the runway rather than looking for the VAULT.

The next few minutes left Alex’s mouth feeling dry. His nerves vibrated and hummed like the jets of the vehicle he searched the skies for. He turned away from the road for a moment and saw the VAULT approaching, now no more than 100 yards out. It dropped down and turned so that the loading ramp faced the team, its engines compensating and slowing its descent and approach for landing. The aircraft was ten feet off the ground when Alex heard the first cascade of gunfire erupt from the men stationed in the APCs.

“We’ve got hostiles approaching the airstrip, repeat, contact at 12 o’clock!” Rogers shouted from his position inside the right APC. “Looks like ground assault forces, well armed with.... uh-oh, they’ve got anti-air rockets!” 

Alex felt his pulse quicken. He had to act. Cassie could handle the loading. He gave her a quick nod, the words unneeded in a situation as vital as their present position. Then he was climbing, scaling the side of the nearest APC, the one Rogers was in. As he reached the summit of the vehicle, he lay himself flat on the smooth surface and leveled his weapon toward the approaching infantry.

As he stared down the scope of his rifle, Alex had a sudden flashback to hunting waterfowl and the woods near Rourke’s property. He almost laughed at the notion that sighting down enemies bent on killing him would make him think of duck hunting, but the noise died in his throat as he picked his first target. The soldier was one of those who carried a rocket launcher, designed to take out aircraft by blowing holes in the wings or engines. Even a vehicle as sleek as a VAULT would have trouble flying with a hole in one wing, let alone two.

BRRRAAPPP!

The three round burst seemed to light up the dark sky near Alex’s position and he cursed himself for not having checked to see if anyone had a flash suppressor on them. On the bright side, no pun intended, he thought, the rounds had found their mark,  as the soldier carrying the anti-air rocketry tumbled backwards in a spray of blood. Those approaching who stood in front and behind him threw aside their heavy weaponry and dove towards the side of the road for any cover they could find. Unfortunately for them, cover wasn’t in abundance.

BRRRAAPPP! BRRRAAPPP! BRRRAAPPP!

Alex opened up, shifting targets back and forth across the road. Three more men fell, while the rest were kept pinned against the sides of the approach. He could hear Cassie shouting at everyone to load up. Without looking back, he knew many of the men would have reservations about climbing into the VAULT while Alex and the other four men remained in harm’s way to provide covering fire. He focused his attention back on the slowly advancing ground forces. They had managed to inch their way past the halfway point between the curve in the road to where it opened onto the airstrip.

“Cassie, Justin, get the guys in the APCs out!” Alex said into his headset. “Tell Sorenson to get things going, we need to buy as much time as possible before I pull back!”

He felt the thuds of Cassie or Justin hammering the sides of the APC, alerting those inside to pull back. Evidently, those approaching the airstrip seemed to notice the movement as well. About half of the force kept their positions of relative cover and began peppering Alex’s position with fire. He rolled sideways along the top of the APC until he was able to slide behind the relative safety of the top hatch. Through the small gap between the top of the APC and the side of the hatch, Alex could see the other half of the approaching troops were now dashing for the rocket launchers dropped by those who had been too slow to escape Alex’s hail of bullets. He leveled his weapon around the side of the hatch and flipped his firing mechanism to the semi-automatic, single-round fire setting.

BAP! BAP! BAP!

Three of the four newly recovered anti-air units clattered to the ground once more. But in his haste to take out the targets, Alex realized with a sickening lurch of his stomach that a fourth unit had been recovered and dragged behind a road block some of the approaching soldiers had pried out for cover. He fired a round toward the unit, and saw the bullet spark off the metal armor of the launcher itself, but whoever was operating it was determined to get a shot off, even if it cost the man his life, a quality Alex would have found admirable if the man wasn’t trying to kill his friends. 

“Alex, I’ve got this, pull back,” he heard Jeremy say into his intercom. Alex didn’t question the older mercenary and slid down out of harms way. As he sprinted back, he saw the VAULT was already several feet off the ground and had pivoted itself 45 degrees to the left, exposing the entire side to the enemy fire. The maneuver, however, had also exposed the enemy to fire from the minigun Justin helmed. 

BBBRRRAAAAPAPAPAPAP!

Alex heard, rather than saw, the minigun startup, its whirring gears blasting hundreds or rounds per minute downrange. As he reached the edge of the loading ramp and threw his gun up to Shawn and Cassie, he glanced back one final time. Justin had unleashed a hellish force with the minigun and Alex saw only dust and debris, a cloud of what almost certainly included at least a few decapitated casualties from the spray of high-caliber bullets.

Then Alex was up as Shawn hauled him into the cabin of the VAULT and the door shut behind them. The aircraft’s interior was crowded, but Alex moved quickly up the center towards Justin’s position on the minigun. Justin cocked a grin back at him as the VAULT leaped skyward, away from the smoking remains of the assault force.

“Always wanted to use one of those,” he said. “Did not disappoint, let me tell you.”

“You and me both,” Alex replied, still a bit shaky from the carnage Justin had just inflicted. The older soldier seemed to almost not be bothered at all by the level of death he had just rained down. Almost. He could see something like fear behind Justin’s ready grin, perhaps at the idea that he had just annihilated dozens of men on the ground in mere seconds. Alex put away the grin. “So you’re really in this with us, for the long haul?”

“I love my old man, and I love Pride Security,” Justin replied cryptically. “I love my little brother too. But more than all that, I loved my life. Dad changed everything when the Council launched their attack. A lot of innocent people are going to die because of him. If I can stop one of those deaths, if I can save even one life from this war they’ve started, then this is all worth it. I don’t want to fight them, but they’re on the wrong side of things and I’m not going to sit around and let them run wild.”

Alex was a little stunned by the frankness of Justin’s answer. Justin was willing to fight against his own family, knowing that could mean being killed at that hands of his father and brother, or that victory could easily mean their deaths as well. Alex knew this wasn’t just bluster or bravado. Justin carried a seriousness that counterbalanced his otherwise bright, cheery countenance. A seriousness that was in full effect now. Alex just nodded. There wasn’t anything more to say. He turned away from Justin and climbed up towards the cockpit.

“Thanks for the extraction, Captain,” Alex said respectfully into the pilot’s ear.

“Not a problem, Corporal,” she replied curtly. “Anything to piss off those pricks from Pride. I’ve got coordinates to set us down at, but just in case, let me give them to you on this memory drive.” She handed Alex back a small memory card, about the size of his pinky fingernail.

“Thanks, but I seriously hope we don’t need to pull them off this drive,” Alex said, his mind refocusing on the fact that, while it seemed the missile defense grid had indeed been destroyed, that didn’t guarantee someone wouldn’t be after them at some point. “By the way, where the hell are we?” He realized that in his haste to get away, he hadn’t bothered to ask anyone where the base was located.

“We’re crossing the border of Iowa headed into Nebraska,” replied the pilot. “Should be just above Omaha, right about now.”

“How long until we arrive at the coordinates?” Alex asked.

“A couple hours, assuming I don’t need to do any fancy flying. We’ve got a tail wind and -” she began to reply.

The cabin lurched sideways and Alex was thrown into the wall. Shouts from the back of the cabin told him he wasn’t the only casualty of the plane’s turbulence.

“What the hell was that?” Alex shouted to pilot.

“Anti-air artillery!” she shouted back and Alex felt the aircraft start to climb higher. “Someone down there knew we were coming, probably after your dad knocked out the defensive grid!” The VAULT lurched again and this time Alex heard something clink off the outer hull of the aircraft. “Ladies and Gentlemen, if you haven’t secured yourself, I’d advise doing so now. I’m about to get real squirrely on those SOBs down on the ground!” 

A laugh rose from the cabin at the mock announcement. Alex had to hand it to Sorenson. She was an expert at her craft and she was defusing any anxiety those riding in back had about the situation they faced. Everyone knew the likely outcome of a crash landing, but somehow the taunts from the pilot kept those fears at bay. Alex made his way carefully back and took a seat next to Shawn, across from Cassie. Both smiled, but their pained expressions masked behind the smiles showed through.

“A few bumps in the road, that’s all,” Alex assured them.

Seconds later an explosion rocked them all back. Alex gaped in horror as a hole was torn open halfway down the cabin, sucking out two men who had the misfortune of sitting in the path of the shell that had struck the VAULT. The aircraft spun violently from the force of the blast and Alex gripped the arms of the seat as he frantically sought to keep the meager contents of his stomach from rebelling against gravity.

“Sorry folks, looks like this flight will be landing ahead of schedule,” Sorenson said from the cockpit. Alex noticed her voice sounded faint and felt another stab of panic as he glanced up at the cockpit. A piece of shrapnel from another shell had punched through the cockpit windshield and Alex knew immediately where it had stopped moving. “Please be aware of your belongings and exit the plane in an orderly fashion.”

“We’re coming in hard, everyone, hold on!” Justin shouted from his position several seats away from Alex.

“It’s been a pleasure serving you today,” the pilot gasped. “And thank you for flying VAULT Airlines.”

Alex glanced outside the window across from him, behind Cassie. He watched as they closed on the ground that seemed to rush up unnaturally quickly towards them. He braced himself, clamping his mouth shut and shoving his arms and legs against the sides of the seat, pressing his back against the wall of the aircraft.

The last thing Alex heard before he lost consciousness was a scream.

Cassie’s scream.

Next Chapter: Ch. 18 - Friend or Foe