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Wrath of the Carnelians (Europa) Page 2
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“Aren’t we here to bring the survivors to the New Earth?” Drake questioned the flimsy Senator.
“Just the important ones,” Perry said knowing Drake would take that differently.
“Important ones?”
“Let me attempt to re-phrase my answer,” Perry continued to push the doctor across the icy landscape.
“Don’t bother. I get it.” Drake fumed. “They are fed by an illusion that their government actually cares about them.”
“Their intentions are fueled by a deep-rooted desperation for survival.” Perry noticed a heavy swarm of vehicles approaching from the westerly direction. “Shit,” Perry’s voice rocketed.
“What is it?” Drake asked.
Perry feverish pace was evident to Drake. “Can’t you see them coming?”
“Where?” Drake turned around and looked out across the terrain. His eyes caught the fleet of green convoys’ rapid ascent on the Senator’s position.
“They will stop at nothing to prevent our agenda from happening.” Perry reached inside his pocket and pressed the button on the small black remote inside his gray down Land’s End jacket.
A small red beacon frantically blinked ahead.
“Oh, and like that’s not going to attract their attention?” Drake became irritable. “Fuck, you might as well put out the goddamn welcome mat.”
“Shut up for a moment will ya?” Perry finally reached the beacon’s final transmission. “They know we are here. I’ll get you to the elevator first.”
“What elevator?” Drake looked out across the empty continent.
Perry pointed straight ahead. “That one.”
Out of nowhere, a white set of doors’ opened, revealing the small elevator tucked inside.
“That’s the entrance to the facility. We’ll take it down several floors until we reach the basement of the complex. From there we head to the docking bay where the ship awaits our arrival.”
“I thought you said you weren’t going.” Nolan Drake finished pushing his way to the elevator using his nimble fingers on the wheels of his chair. Once inside the elevator, he noticed the brown panel walls were pastedwith Naval pictures and even a picture of the solar system. “How cute,” he whispered aloud. “I can see Jupiter and her moons.”
“I will see you to the ship. The President has a present specifically designed for you once you are aboard Athena.”
The convoy had reached the Senator’s positioning.
“We are going with you!” The fractured group shouted out to the befuddled Senator.
“On second thought,” Senator Perry reached in the elevator and punched the red button initiating the elevator’s doors to close. He then pressed the basement button. “It looks like you will be going on a one-way ride Doctor.”
“Stop right there,” a man’s voice demanded the Senator to cease his action.
The aged man held a scraped, silvered pistol entrenched in his hand and instructed the Senator to give in to his demands.
“I can’t do that Riley.” Perry turned around. “I can’t let everybody and their mother on board Athena. I am on very strict orders from the President himself.”
“Wrong answer.” Riley waved his men to surround the Senator. “We are getting on that ship one way or another. You promised me a golden ticket, remember?”
“Over my dead body,” Perry agitated the rogue citizen.
“Listen, we are not here to fight with you.” Riley reached for something behind his back.
The door’s closed directly in front of Nolan Drake. He could see the back of the Senator as Perry continually argued with the fractured survivors.
“Storm the elevator!” Riley demanded his team to carry out the order.
Senator Perry tucked his hands back inside each of the jacket pockets. With his left hand, Perry pressed the remote control once more.
“What are you doing?” Riley furiously asked. The older man couldn’t grasp what the Senator was attempting.
“Like I said, you are not getting on that ship.” Perry took a full breath in and pulled out a small grenade tucked firmly inside his right hand.
“Your persistent stubbornness will be the death of you.” Riley fired off a pinpoint shot into the Senator’s torso.
Senator Perry took the force of the shot in his chest, letting a plume of down feathers scatter about the air. His right finger clipped the pin of the grenade and tossed it at the direction of the rogue army.
Riley fired off shot after shot at the defiant Senator, riddling the politician with a maelstrom of bullets.
Nolan Drake caught sight of Perry absorbing the brunt of the attack, sending bloodied feathers scattering about.
Drake felt a swarm of cold air force itself inside the cramped elevator as the door’s finally closed behind the raucous explosion. The fireball scattered snow, ice, and severed limbs across the treacherous Antarctic landscape.
Beneath the surface
The descent was a rocky one at best. The explosion rocked the entire underground complex, sending a steady stream of earthquakes riddling through the remote area. The elevator banged from side to side knocking around Nolan Drake like a marble in a glass maze. One of the cables became frayed and split in half, sending the elevator car catapulting downward, straight for the basement floor.
“What the hell,” Drake felt the entire elevator compartment bounce around. His fingers slipped off the wheelchair’s armrest and became entangled in the wheels, snapping several small bones in each finger. In noticeable pain, and anticipating a harsh landing, Drake lurched his arms in front of his face. The wheelchair started gaining momentum, heading towards the far wall.
Another rock from above left the elevator dangling from one wire, leaving the car in a vertical dance above the basement floor.
The car vaulted to one side, slamming Drake against the wall with the force of a thousand hurricanes. Drake, thrown backwards in the chair, crashed to the floor in the far corner of the elevator.
“We need to get him help,” The control engineer dutifully noted to his supervisor.
Nolan Drake’s predicament was featured all across the video monitors. The engineer could see every angle of Drake’s situation on all twenty-six LCD monitors.
“Let’s get a medical team to the basement entrance and fast,” Commander Dylan Gordon ordered his men.
“Before it’s too late,” the engineer cut in.
A loud crash rattled the combine as several of the monitors blacked out, leaving behind a hazy, whitened blur of snow.
The engineer could see Nolan Drake pinned underneath a section of the collapsed roof, with live electrical wires dancing high above the stranded doctor. “Commander,” the young engineers spoke into the intercom.
“What is it?” Commander Gordon responded. He was leading his men across the corridor en route to the basement elevator shaft. In all of Gordon’s thirty-seven years of service, this was definitely a first. His sharpened demeanor rubbed plenty of people the wrong way, earning him many nasty glazes and grumbles along the course of his electric career. Gordon’s long list of accolades, medals and awards spoke volumes of his intense leadership and loyalty to the United States of America.
“I can see Doctor Drake.”
“Is he alive?” Gordon requested information.
“Barely. He’s pinned on the eastern side of the elevator. There’s a section of live electrical wires dangling above him. Also, a section of the roof has collapsed on top of the Doctor.”
“Thank you.” Gordon grouped his men. “Listen, rescuing Dr. Drake is our top priority.”
“Understood Commander,” Gordon’s team echoed.
“On order of the President of the United States, that man inside that elevator shaft makes it to the ship alive,” Gordon issued the order. “At all costs.”
“Understood Sir.” Gordon’s men saluted the highly decorated Commander.
“He’s pinned pretty good in there men. He’s also in a wheelchair, so take extra
measures to ensure his safety, and your own.”
Commander Gordon and his men approached the deflated elevator that lay crumpled at the basement’s entrance.
Nolan Drake stirred about, blinking his eyes in a frantic, nervous pattern. He took stock of his situation. He immediately recognized the surroundings, noticing that he was pinned underneath a fragmented section of the elevator’s roof. He couldn’t move at all, his arms were bent in an awkward fashion underneath the rubble, and his fingers felt odd from being snapped inside the chair’s wheels moments before the crash.
“Open the door.” Gordon pointed across the hall at the twisted elevator door.
“It won’t be easy Sir,” one of his men addressed the dire situation.
“What’s your name officer?” Gordon demanded an answer from the young man.
“Harrison Beckworth ,” the young Naval Officer respectfully saluted the Commander.
“I don’t care about easy Son,” Gordon grumbled. “Open the fucking door.”
“Yes, Sir” Harrison concurred with the order. “Come on guys,” he waved over to the other men. “Let’s get this open,” he paused, looking at the Commander. “On the count of three we pry open the doors and rescue Doctor Nolan Drake.”
“Any change?” Gordon’s fingers adjusted his wireless intercom, pressing the ear piece closer to the ridge of his right ear.
“No, but it’s pretty damn tricky inside that car,” the engineer responded back.
“Thanks,.” Gordon turned his attention to the rescue mission.
“One...”
“Two...”
“Three!”
All five of the officers pried open the doors with their collection of fingers desperately fought back the strength of the dismantled door.
“Once more!” Gordon ordered. He quickly found a broom resting against a nearby wall.
Another rush of adrenaline had successfully opened the dented doors just enough for the Commander to wedge the wooden broom between the doors.
He leaned in and pressed his face through the serviceable slit in the door. “Doctor Drake can you hear me?” Gordon called out.
“Yeah,” Drake mumbled the words. His mouth filled with blood. A section of the metal bars, released from the roof, penetrating Drake’s torso, puncturing the lungs.
“He definitely sounds compromised in there.” Gordon turned around and faced his men. “He’s pinned not too far from the doors.”
“Hurry!” Drake attempted to scream out for assistance.
“Hang on Doc!” Gordon bellowed, his words echoed throughout the demolished elevator car. “Give me a hand over here,” Gordon continued to orchestrate the daring rescue attempt.
The officers valiantly gathered, chatting their plan and propping their bodies against the wall, preparing for the Commander’s next series of orders.
“Sammy, Harrison, and Tommy, stay put and watch the door. I’ll go in with Lieutenant Wilkes.” Lieutenant Henry Wilkes never left Gordon’s side, always the loyal soldier, and best friend off the battlefield. “The three of you man the post and be ready to pull the Doc to safety,” Gordon said, stepping over some of the scattered debris en route to Drake’s difficult position. “Hey Doc! Can you hear me?” Gordon spurted out the words in hope of hearing some kind of response.
A quieted, muffled sound chortled from underneath the rubble.
Gordon worked with endless ambition to free Drake from the dislodged roof. “One more should do it,” he gasped while he and Wilkes raised the heavy piece from Drake’s chest.
“Is that better?” Gordon asked Drake.
A feeble shake of the doctor’s head gave the Commander his answer.
“Take him back to the door and have Sammy and Tommy help you out. I’ll be right behind you.” Gordon worked Drake free from the wheelchair, watching Wilkes scoop up the mangled scientist and cautiously working their way back to the door. Wilkes sidestepped the live electrical wires as they dangerously came close to licking the side of his smoothly shaved face.
“Hurry up! The broom’s breaking!” Sammy called out to Wilkes.
Tommy propped his shoulder against the deteriorating door, preparing to give Henry and Gordon a few more precious seconds on the clock.
Wilkes safely approached the door as Sammy reached in and grabbed hold of the damaged scientist. Nolan Drake managed to push through the group of men, catapulting a weakened cough, strong enough to disperse the collected pool of blood inside his mouth, pouring it everywhere. The sticky liquid adhered to the men’s clothing, leaving droplets arranged in bizarre patterns.
Wilkes narrowly escaped through the door, a millisecond before the last fiber of the broom snapped in half.
“Commander, pick up the pace!” Tommy called inside the elevator.
Gordon, only a few seconds behind Wilkes, absorbed one of the frenzied wires grazed his shoulder sending an electrical charge blistering through his body. Gordon lost his senses for a brief moment, long enough to erase his chance at escaping the elevator.
Inch by inch the doors closed in front of the commander.
“Hang onto those doors!” Gordon bellowed out to his officers. He dragged along his feet which seemed to trek through wet cement after the electrical shock. Gordon couldn’t move fast enough to make the escape.
Henry turned back in time to see Gordon’s entanglement in a bevy of snarling wires. Sections of the roof crumbled down on the commander’s position. “Commander!” Henry shouted out. He quickly did an about face and turned back for the commander. Tommy’s small, feminine fingers slipped from the door, sending the elevator’s doors slamming closed, chipping several of his fingernails. Henry lunged for the door, catching it moments before the last piece of the door slipped shut, leaving Henry’s fingers caught in between the doors. Henry’s thumbs pressed against the door desperate to reopen the door, freeing his remaining eight fingers.
“Get Dr. Drake to safety,” Commander Gordon barked his last order from inside the elevator car.
“Dylan!” Wilkes frantically bellowed out to his commanding officer. Wilkes, unable to maintain the strength felt each finger breaking from the intense pressure of the door. Another round of grunting led Henry to believe the Commander had succumbed to the car’s implosion.
Tommy frantically attempted to pry the Lieutenant’s fingers from the door, slowly opening the door inches enough for Henry to extract his gnarled fingers. “He’s gone, let’s get the Doctor to a safer area of the bunker,” Tommy insisted that Wilkes let the Commander go.
“Now what Sir?” Sammy asked Wilkes for a decision. “You’re in command.”
“I am not proud of these circumstances,” Wilkes said, nursing the collection of broken fingers. “We need to carry out the Commander’s orders. Doctor Nolan Drake makes it to the Athena alive and well.”
The Athena
Doctor Nolan Drake’s condition worsened. The injuries he suffered during the elevator’s collapse, left its ruthless mark. Drake’s lungs filled with blood once more, limiting the Doctor’s chances of survival.
Down the long corridor, the team marched their way to the docking station where the last remaining ship in Adrian Blakely’s sprawling fleet waited for boarding. Lieutenant Henry Wilkes ushered his team with great patience, and veteran leadership, remaining steadfast in finishing off the late Commander’s orders.
The corridor’s walls were chipping away slowly, most likely due from the lack of funding from the U.S. Government. Most of the budget was sucked into the program like a black hole for the development of Adrian Blakely’s magnificent fleet of spaceships, and now the last of the fleet would prepare for liftoff.
Wilkes illustrated the plan for the rest of the team. “Beyond those metal doors, Athena awaits for us. There are many amenities to this ship, one of them being her extensive medical team on board that will take care of our immediate needs.”
Wilkes touched the screen, entering the password using the ends of his bloodied knuckles, leaving a s
meared path of blood on the clear surface. A combination of earlier technology and the newest fiber of machinery, the virtual keypad submerged underneath a clear panel, used touch screen to activate the locking system. The door peeked open, exposing the mammoth docking station inside.
Harboring excitement, each of the men filed in, waiting to witness the spectacle. Wilkes walked across the metallic tiled floor and greeted the medical team on the other side of the room.
“Lieutenant Wilkes,” the medical officer greeted his superior. “Where’s Commander Gordon?”
“I’m afraid he didn’t make it.” Wilkes waved over his men. “We have Doctor Drake and he’s in desperate need of medical attention.”
“Why yes, of course,” the medical officer said. “My team’s prepared for your visit and we have a medical bed all set up for the good Doctor,” he paused. “we even have spaceman sheets for the bed.” The lame joke fell flat, with the men not fully aware of the medical officer’s part-time job as a stand-up comedian. “Anyway,” he felt the dead silence, “we can also take a look at those injuries of yours as well Sir.”
“In due time. My top priority is Doctor Nolan Drake and his well-being.” Wilkes waved over the team.
“Absolutely. I completely understand.”
Doctor Drake’s immobile body was immediately placed on the waiting bed and taken up the ramp and inside the ship’s medical bay.
“How soon before we depart?” Wilkes asked his expert pilot.
“I will get her ready Sir,” Tommy saluted him. “We‘ll be up an running in no time.”
Sammy waited for his own set of orders.
“As our resident mechanic, please do me a favor and circle one more lap around before Tommy takes the joystick,” Wilkes issued the command for Sammy.
“Yes Sir,” Sammy eagerly boarded the spaceship’s ramp and initiated his inspection.
“We are running out of time,” Lieutenant Wilkes boarded the ramp. “We must leave promptly. I’ll be ready to depart within the hour.” Wilkes patted the medical officer on the shoulder. “I look forward to working with each of you.”
“I’ve heard rumblings that The Amity’s crew has been compromised Sir,” the young medical officer responded with the fluffed up rumor.