Callsign: King II- Underworld

But maybe it wouldn’t be necessary.

Skipping the tedious step of sending a reply, Sokoloff dialed the number from which the messages had been sent. The call connected immediately.

“You have broken protocol.” The voice was female, but sounded artificial like an automated answering service. He half expected to be instructed to press “1” to continue in English. Instead, the voice went on. “Please provide an explanation for the lapse in communication, and your subsequent decision to initiate direct voice contact.”

“I am sick of trying to type on this thing,” Sokoloff snarled. “If you’re so worried about getting this job done right away, stop jerking me around with text messages.”

“Your objection to established methods of communication has been noted. Please provide an explanation for the lapse in communication.”

“I went through a tunnel and lost the signal. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I need you to track Pierce again. The target is close by, but I can’t find him. Tell me where Pierce is, and I’ll end this.”

“George Pierce is currently one point six miles east of your location, traveling at an average speed of forty-two miles per hour.”

Sokoloff sighed again. “Just send his coordinates to my phone in real-time.”

“Negative. There is an eighty-nine point seven percent probability that the target is en route to a known location. The coordinates for that location have been sent. Proceed there immediately and execute the contract without further delay.”

“How do you know where he’s going?”

There was no answer. The call had been terminated at the other end. Sokoloff glanced at the screen and saw that his GPS app had been activated to show his new destination.





31.


1031 UTC (3:31 am Local)



King got out with his hands raised in a gesture of surrender, but as the soldiers swarmed around him, he said: “You need to let me speak to whoever is in command. It’s urgent.”

He knew they would eventually accede to his request; it was just a question of how long it would take and how uncomfortable they would choose to make him in the interval.

The soldiers already seemed to grasp the need for urgency. King and the others were manhandled away from the Humvee and rushed back to the fenced area near the entrance to the facility. As they got close, King could feel cobwebs of static electricity brushing his skin and he smelled a whiff of ozone in the air, but the concrete building eclipsed his view of the strange light show that seemed to be issuing from the mine beyond.

“Sigler? I’ll be damned, is that you?”

King swung around to meet the source of the familiar voice. “Colonel Mayfield?” He did a double-take when he noticed the star on the man’s body armor vest. “Sorry, General Mayfield.”

When King had been a platoon leader in the Army Rangers, Colonel Scott Mayfield had been his battalion commander. Mayfield had approved his transfer to Special Forces Operational Detachment Delta, which had been a stepping stone to Chess Team. He remembered Mayfield as an even-tempered and fair commanding officer, but he had no idea what to expect here and now.

The general stalked forward, a hint of frustration in his eyes. “I take it you’re the one who’s been dogging my men all night. I should have been kept in the loop on Delta activities in my AO.”

“I guess you didn’t get the memo,” King replied. He nearly told the man he wasn’t with Delta anymore, but didn’t see how that revelation would help the current situation. Better to let him think he was on duty. “And we really don’t have time to play catch-up.” He took a breath, and then with as much respect as he could muster, said: “Sir, you’ve got to shut Bluelight down, immediately.”

Mayfield shook his head. “Those aren’t my orders.”

“Then let me talk to Copeland.”

The general frowned. “Son, I don’t think you grasp the big picture here.”

“King!” Nina shouted. “It’s starting.”

King glanced back at her and saw what looked like a glistening fuzz seeping out the ground around her feet. He turned back to Mayfield. “With all due respect, sir, believe me when I say that I see a lot more of the picture than you. If you don’t shut Bluelight down immediately, more of your men are going to die. Let me talk to Copeland. He’ll understand.”

Mayfield pursed his lips. “I’ll let you say your piece, but my orders stand. The Bluelight experiment needs to be completed, and any resulting hostile incursion dealt with and eliminated.”

“Then you already know.” Nina took a step closer. “You know that it’s driving the creatures to the surface, turning them into killers.”

Mayfield ignored her and gestured to the door. “This way.”