Protocol 7

Simon felt his breath thundering in his chest as he ran forward toward the Raptor. It was black as death. He had lost too much blood. With each step, he moved farther from his best friend, his dead father, and the woman who had killed him.

But he knew he had to fulfill his father’s final wish. Even if he didn’t believe or understand it.

The dark hallways disappeared behind him as he finally passed the octagonal room. The whole journey felt like a dream.

He was alone in the world. Now he knew his father was dead. His mind wandered as he moved, asking himself with each stride if he should stop and turn back, simply accept death as it approached. But something pushed him forward—something greater than himself.

“I forgive you, Father,” he said between gasps.

In front of him, the Great Room narrowed into the escape hatch. He could remember that even through the dimly lit environment. Then suddenly, the sound that he heard reverberated through his body.

He felt as if he was running toward the thrusters of a jet airplane. The room ahead of him exploded in a flash of blue light, nearly blinding him. Instantly, he realized what was happening.

The Raptor! he told himself as he stumbled forward. Someone’s in the Raptor.

The form of the awesome ice vehicle appeared in front of him. It almost looked alive, like some mythical, mechanical beast waiting to explode through its massive hatch—a hatch that was rolling open, even as he approached.

The ground rumbled below his feet as the force of the thrusters vibrated the entire room. He had to move quickly, he knew it was his only chance.

Fifteen…ten…five feet. And suddenly, he was under the vehicle frantically trying to locate a way to climb up. The violent roar of the thrusters shook his body unlike anything he had ever felt. Suddenly the front lights turned on, illuminating almost one thousand feet ahead of the vehicle. Simon caught a quick glimpse of the special tunnel. It looked like a luge, illuminated all around from the bright lights of the Ice Raptor.

Less than two seconds later, he located the step mechanism and pulled his body up toward the cockpit. It had not closed yet.

But inside the cockpit, Blackburn was about to connect his last latch on the safety belts. He looked away, down toward the console at exactly the wrong moment—

Simon hit him. Hard. His fist broke the man’s specialized helmet and dislodged a piece of it, driving it into Blackburn’s jaw.

Simon was on him before Blackburn could even scream, filled to bursting with vengeance, unimpeded by remorse. He pulled Blackburn’s massive frame out of the Raptor as if he was possessed by strength far greater than his body could generate, and both men fell to the floor almost eight feet below.

Blackburn grunted as he hit the ice and groped for his pistol, but Simon was on him too quickly, too strongly. He struck out and slammed his fist onto the left side of Simon’s face, cutting his mouth open from the inside, sliced raw by his teeth.

Simon had felt that familiar pain before many times. It didn’t matter one bit. He immediately struck back, jamming his elbow against Blackburn’s throat like an ultimate fighter, focused on killing his opponent.

He didn’t care. He had no reason not to take this man’s life. Nothing would stop him from his father’s last request.

He was too angry, too focused. He didn’t notice that Blackburn had his hand on his pistol again—and the instant he had his hand on it, he lashed out and struck Simon on the temple with a resounding crack, throwing him to the floor.

Simon fell, nearly unconscious. Blackburn stood up like a dark aberration, towering above Simon’s head.

* * *

Nika focused her eyes on the perforated floor. Her head had not lifted since Simon had left the room. Filled with sadness, she waited for the bullet from Max’s gun to take her life.

He clenched the pistol so tightly in his right hand that it shook the barrel less than an inch from Nika’s neck. He couldn’t focus his anger to formulate what he was about to say.

“Why?” He asked.

She did not speak.

“Is it true what Oliver said?” he asked her, pressing firmly against the trigger with his index finger.

She nodded.

He fought the will to just shoot her. It was too easy. Too painless. How could she have done this, he thought to himself.

Then suddenly she spoke. “Max, Oliver was right. I had no choice. But I am prepared to die, so pull the trigger.”

Clenching his teeth, he asked, “What the f*ck are you talking about?”

It was getting harder and harder to fight the urge to not take her life. “You mean to tell me you didn’t have a choice but to take someone’s life?”

“I can find Leon, Max. I know where he is. Simon will never find him. He belongs to my society.”

“What society? What the f*ck is going on?” Max said, wondering if she was trying to manipulate him again.

Then Nika began to explain. She told him everything. She explained how she knew Oliver, how she had known Simon all her life, but had only watched him from a distance. She was never allowed to meet him. She explained the reason why Oliver had to come to Antarctica, and why he had betrayed his own society. She spoke about the extraterrestrial devices less than a few hundred feet below them. She only looked up once, and noticed Max had just sat down and eased up on the pistol. His expression was of complete disbelief and shock at what had just been revealed to him.

“So what will happen now?” He asked in a somber tone.

“I can find him, Max. I know where Leon will hide. If you let me live, I promise I will find him.”

He sat speechless for a long moment staring at Oliver’s dead body.

He had a choice to make, and he had to make it now. What if she finds and kills Simon? What if all of this is a lie, he asked himself. He had to trust his gut, as he always did, and it told him that it made sense as ridiculous as all of it sounded.

“Go. Get the f*ck out of my sight before I change my mind.”

Nika didn’t hesitate. She pulled herself up quickly, whispering, “Thank you.”

Max’s eyes did not move. “I’ll find you. Trust me. If you find a way to escape this hell, you need to deliver on your promise. If you don’t, I will still find you. But for now—now you’re on your own,” he said.

She glanced at him for a split second and then disappeared into the hallway that led toward the direction that Simon had just escaped. Max continued staring at the only father he knew. What Nika had told him resonated through his mind. What the hell will we do now? he thought to himself. I know if Simon reaches the surface, we will leave this hell. Just get up there you bastard.

* * *

Simon’s vision was fading. He had lost too much blood. With his face stuck to the icy floor, he barely saw the figure of Blackburn standing over him. He heard the words as if they emerged from a shadow—cold, unfeeling.

“You pathetic son of a bitch,” Blackburn said. “You thought this was about your father. You have no f*cking clue how big this is. You have no idea what you have done, and now you are going to pay for it.”

Simon kept his eyes open, barely long enough to recognize the figure that stood behind Blackburn in the distance.

Blackburn’s finger curled around the pistol’s trigger—

—and two bullets hit him from behind. He still stood erect, still alive, for one long impossible moment, then fell like a statue on top of Simon. His hand convulsed as he fell and the pistol fired. The bullet slashed through the air less than three inches from Simon’s head.

Even though he was nearly unconscious himself, Simon recognized the figure that had killed Blackburn. He felt shock, confusion, awe, as he peered through the pain at Nika, standing a hundred feet away.

I’m next, he thought.

He had no more strength to fight. But somehow he managed to pull himself to his feet and confront her, face her, look straight at her as she turned to him.

He was ready to take the bullet.

She did not flinch. She held her aim for a long, long moment, and then lowered her rifle and waited for Simon to enter the Raptor.

He stared at her. He thought his life would be taken. But apparently in that moment, Nika had decided not to kill him.

He climbed the stairs more slowly than ever and entered the cockpit. As he passed through the hatch, he looked back once more at Nika’s cold blue eyes. They locked with his, one last time.

He pulled his body into the menacing machine and started to buckle himself in. As the last latch on the safety belts engaged, the cockpit hatch began to hiss, automatically pressurizing the cockpit. His seat automatically reclined, putting him into a lying position with his legs forward.

He felt as if he would lose consciousness at any moment. Then the voice command module in the Raptor spoke.

“Diagnostics complete. Ready for detachment. Course set for zero altitude.”

“-153…-79…+347…Confirm coordinates, confirm ignition.”

All Simon had to do was speak the words. He took a deep breath and forced the words out.

“Coordinates confirmed,” he rasped. “Ignition confirmed.”

Eight audible beeps later, the Raptor exploded forward, thrusting its massive form into the cavernous tunnel ahead. It shook the surrounding ice like a fighter jet.

The G-force almost knocked Simon out in the first five seconds. All he could feel were the vibrations in the interior of the cockpit as the force pressed him against his seat like a falling stone wall.

* * *

Four hundred eighty feet behind, Blackburn barely opened his eyes. He felt the pain in his back where the bullet had struck, but the bulletproof clothing he wore had saved his life. Again, he thought grimly. And probably not for the last time.

He did not have the strength to move, but it didn’t matter. He had already lost the Raptor, he knew that. He would have to wait for an evac team in any event, assuming one could get there.

We’ll get him on the outside, he told himself. We’ll get him.

And only then did he hear the woman’s voice-deep, accented, cutting through the fading vibration of the disappearing Raptor. He saw no one, but he heard.

“Goodbye, my brother.”

Then she disappeared—toward the elevator shaft.

* * *

The Raptor blew through the smooth-sided coring tunnel at 135 miles per hour. It started accelerating upward as the pitch increased to more than forty degrees, curving upward toward the top of the ice continent.

Simon’s eyesight began to fade. He felt consciousness slipping away as he moved at breakneck speed.

* * *

One thousand feet above where Simon was now traveling, Hayden felt a sudden vibration below his feet as he struggled to help Samantha.

“Come on Sam,” he pleaded, hauling at her one more time. “We’ve got to keep moving before we freeze to death.”

Samantha had no more strength; the blast had nearly killed her, but she was not ready to die.

She forced herself up and barely recognized Hayden. Much to her own surprise, she was glad to be alive.

He held her for a moment as the recent memory of Ryan’s death took hold of her emotions. Holding her tightly in his arms, Hayden said, “We’ve got to keep moving before we freeze Samantha. With the Spector destroyed, I have to find a way to get us out of here.” He looked at the communication device strapped on his wrist, and realized Max was trying to find them. The message read:

Stay where you are. Coming toward you.

Hayden was glad that Max was alive. He spoke softly into the device. “We’ll wait for you at the encampment.”

We are going to make it out alive.

* * *

Max sat watching Oliver in the dark room. The man had been a father to him. Now he wondered why it had come to this.

What Nika had shared with him had changed everything. He looked at Oliver and knew at that moment that there was a greater purpose. That’s why he had let her go.

Then he read the incoming message from Hayden and realized he needed to get to him quickly. Grateful for the sound of his own voice in the frozen silence, he said, “I need to find Samantha and the others, and we’ll soon escape this hell.”

He thought of his best friend, rocketing away from him, miles above.

Just get to the surface Simon. Just get there!!…

* * *

At almost one thousand feet below the surface of the ice continent, Simon started hallucinating. The force of the Raptor was too much for his wounded body. He could barely remember what had happened. He had started to feel calm. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Moments later, the Raptor started to slow, just as it was programmed to do at this elevation. It broke through a thin hatch covered with ice that concealed the opening of the tunnel and emerged onto the surface of the icy continent.

It was black as night everywhere: no stars, no moon. The only thing Simon felt was the sudden pressure as the vehicle came to a complete stop.

The unmarked black rescue helicopters that were programmed to dispatch upon the Raptor’s detachment thrummed over the horizon and descended to pick up their cargo. Everything had been planned; the crew in the chopper expected that the leader of Vector5 waited for them in the vehicle.

Simon felt the noise and vibration of the choppers as blue lights shone into the cockpit. His vision was almost completely blurred. The next thing he heard was his cockpit door decompressing, and his body was detached from the harness, pulled free. He felt multiple hands and voices. It all felt like a blur.

His father’s words still echoed in his mind: Find Leon.

The frigid air cutting through the Antarctic plateau felt welcome against his skin and helped him stay awake for a few minutes longer. He felt his body being strapped down. A gurney, he thought. I’m on a gurney.

He heard the voices and started seeing lights. “Move it. Move it. Let’s go. We’re out of here.” A few immeasurable moments later, Simon felt warmth all around him, as if he was inside a room. Then he heard what seemed to be the blades of a chopper.

“Life support! I need life support,” he heard a voice say.

“Wind’s picking up,” said another voice—a woman’s.

“Disengage, disengage.”

He noticed what seemed to be multiple forms around him and what seemed to be random holo-displays inside some sort of vehicle. It’s a chopper, he noticed, dizzy from the loss of blood. Then he felt the subtle vibration on his wrist. He knew that Max and Hayden had found each other. A momentary sense of calm took hold of him as his body began to lose all feeling.

If you can only get to the surface, you will be fine. He remembered Oliver’s words. He felt calm. He knew that even though he was the only one to escape, Max and the others would soon be rescued. He knew that the operation would be blown and the world would go to the rescue of the captives. What he had done would stop the great atrocities toward the world and the human beings that were being held captive. He realized that the purpose of his mission was greater than himself, greater than the need to find his father—it was about world and humanity.

He thought about the secrets Oliver had told him, but he didn’t care, it didn’t matter. They were too great for anyone to fathom. His friends were all that mattered, and they’re alive.

His eyes were fading as he felt an inner peace. The last thing he remembered was the chance he had been given, to hold his father for one last time.





About the Author


Armen Gharabegian graduated from the Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, CA, with a Master’s of science degree in Industrial Design. He has been professionally designing furniture and environments for the past fifteen years. Armen continues to work on his fine arts in painting, sculpture and installation work. In 2006, he began his project Arctica and started the trilogy of books, which became his newfound passion. He now diligently writes and is currently working on books II and III of the Arctica trilogy, due to be released in 2014 and 2015. Armen lives with his wife, two sons, and Great Dane in Los Angeles, CA.