Escape: Omega Book 1 (Omega: Earth's Hero) (9 page)

Captain Perry Black had no choice but to heed the general’s advice and calm down. Pain shot through his arm and his leg was on fire. The injured man barely managed to grab hold of the exam table before his knees gave out.

The room was silent.

“Men, make sure the captain gets whatever care is required.” To Perry, the general said, “Take the transfer. Take the transfer and forget the place. It’s the best thing you could ever do.”   

And with that, Hendricks was gone.

Thurmond Hendricks sat at his desk, a cigar clamped between his teeth. Some days were harder than others as a lieutenant general. The past few days, as stressful as any of his entire career wearing stars on his lapel. Wide awake on his return from Hangar 99, he’d caught a quick nap on the sofa in his office, showered, and dressed there as well. He feared if he returned to his quarters, the draw of his bunk would be too powerful for him to withstand. There was work to do.

He was not happy about what had to be done, but he could accept that. Hard decisions were familiar to him; he’d made them all his life. He picked up his phone and quickly dialed a number.

“Is the serum complete?” he asked as soon as the voice answered.

“Yes, sir. It is. I worked all night.”

Hendricks did not acknowledge the sacrifice. He wouldn’t. He was no fan of Coiper. Hans Coiper was the closest thing that the base had to an intellectual equal of North. While Sally North and her team worked hands-on with the Omega Project, Coiper and his lab coats worked support and research for another section of the program, one that Hendricks hoped would surpass the bitter success of the hybrid project. Nevertheless, when it came to likeability, Coiper, the Swiss immigrant that had rose to fame in chemical engineering for the Navy, couldn’t hold a candle to a viper. If not for his genius, Hendricks did not doubt he would have ended up face-down in the gutter many years ago. At the moment, Hendricks needed him, and Coiper knew it. While that need would not compel the general to gush pleasantries, it did cause him to be cordial.

“It’s been tested?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“The Omega Project is not a rodent, doctor. It is not a guinea pig. Nor is it a computer simulation. I need guarantees. I need cold, hard facts. If this project of yours not only erases his memory and allows me to start his training from scratch, but turns his brain to mush, neither he, nor you, will be of any use to this project.”  

“That is understood, general.”

Hendricks’ furrow deepened. “Make sure that it is.”

The general killed the connection and rocked back in his chair, the parts squeaking a little as they strained. It was still early. Up top, the sun would just be now rising, and already a headache was splitting his head in two.

“The hell with it.” He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a gold lighter. He flipped the top open and spun the wheel, bringing forth a low, thick flame. He lit the tip of his cigar and puffed. Smoke soon filled the office, and for the moment, the headache eased.

His phone rang. Usually at this hour, he was the one making the calls. He had a slight premonition just as he picked up the line, but quickly pushed it from his mind. As it turned out, his first thought, though ludicrous just second ago, had been spot-on.

“Say again!” Hendricks barked. He listened closely. “I’ll be right there. Seal all exits. Deploy all security staff.” He almost ended the call, but had one more thought. “And get me Dr. North. I want her with a full escort until further notice.”

The soldier on the other end of the line might’ve said something. Most likely, he did--agreeing with orders, promising quick action--but the general didn’t hear them. He was already away from his desk and on the way out the door. Strong, powerful strides belied the panic building in his chest.

Chapter 11

Two things woke Sally from a light sleep, simultaneously. Even after the wine and hot bath, slumber finding her quickly, and the exhaustion that frayed every nerve ending in her body, she found herself barely beneath the jagged waves of sleep.

The knocking at the door was loud. The buzzing on the overhead speaker system was louder.

As soon as her eyelids parted, Sally found herself regretting each and every single drop of Merlot that had slid across her tongue last evening. She was up and pulling her robe on as the knocking continued. The beats came faster and faster. Someone was getting their panties in a wad that was for sure. She tapped the keypad and the door slid open.

“What’s the meaning of this?” She quickly counted seven soldiers. She recognized most of the men, but only from passing. Except the one that appeared to be in charge. Lieutenant Gordon Phillips was a tall, rather young officer. Until this very moment, she considered him a nice guy.

“Dr. North. If you would, please dress quickly and follow us.”

There was something different in the strapping young man, besides the fact that he had a sidearm holstered and looked like he’d just swallowed the proverbial canary. She noticed his new rank before she responded. “On whose authority,
captain
?”

“General Hendricks’s, doctor. The C.O. has ordered an armed detail escort you to him.”

“That’s crazy, Phillips. I want to talk to the general right this moment.” Sally reached for the phone, but stopped short. From the corner of her eye, she saw Phillips reach his hand to the butt of his gun.
This is crazy
, she thought.
Has everyone around here lost their marbles? We’re all on the same side… aren’t we?

“Dr. North. Sally. Please. I have strict orders.” Their eyes met for just a moment. It was long enough for Sally to understand that he was serious. And while he may have hated doing this to her, he was going to do it, regardless whether she made it hard or not. She could do little. The sense of defeat came heavy on her.

“Am I to dress with you standing over me?”

“Unfortunately, it’s either that, or come as you are.” She thought she saw the thinnest trace of a smile on his face. It could have been her imagination, but then again…

She walked to her small bathroom, splashed water on her face, toweled it dry, and walked back out to her closet. She put her back to the soldiers as she tossed off the robe and pulled on a shirt over her tee and pulled khakis over her lounge pants.
No striptease for you guys, sorry.

“What’s the matter, captain? Are we under attack? Have the Taliban found us in the middle of the desert?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Then why the state of emergency? Nuclear war? An impending asteroid impact? Mel Gibson running for president?”

“It’s classified,” Phillips said.

“Classified? Classified, you say?” Sally found her lab coat. After making sure it wasn’t too dirty, slid her arms into it. “You barge in here like my last name is Hussein and you can’t even tell me what the problem is?”

“That’s right.”

“That’s bullshit.” One of the enlisted men snorted at that, and Phillips’ face reddened.

“I said it’s classified.”

“It’s Omega, isn’t it?” It wasn’t much. Just a quick flick of an eyelid, a twitch of the cheek, and the captain’s face was back to stone. It was enough. Sally’s heart dropped into her stomach like a pebble into a lake.

“Let’s go, doctor. We can’t keep the general waiting.”

Sally nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Something was wrong here. Something was definitely wrong. She tried to tell herself that Hendricks would tell her everything once she got to him. Dr. Sally North the scientist knew better. Sally North the woman, however, had to hold out hope.

Had something happened to Omega? Had he flipped out after the mission? Had he gone crazy? Was that even possible? Had he taken a hostage? She really doubted that. Whatever it was, it had been too early, much too early for him to participate in a live mission.

Science was a practice. There were never definite answers, or even definite questions for that matter. All was fluid, as one discovery opened the door to another while closing countless other doors to countless other possibilities. Had they went too far? Had they played God just one time too many?

Or was it even Omega’s fault? Had the crafty old general finally lost grip of his sharp, calculating mind? Sally didn’t think that probable. He was a guff old man, and he was only concerned in what Omega would mean to his career. That had never been a secret. She’d never known him to take rash action, however. Everything that Hendricks did had some type of rhyme or reason behind it. Strategy was most often his best weapon. Nonetheless, he was but a cog in the machine, as they all were. Had orders came down from on high, perhaps even from the White House?

Of course, she didn’t know. Her curious mind was as much a curse as it was a blessing. Now that the old hypothesis machine was chugging away, burping coal smoke into the air, there would be no stopping until answers were found.

Led, not exactly at gunpoint, from the room, she followed behind Phillips as the six other soldiers, all solemn-faced young men, swallowed her up so that they stepped down the corridor in a diamond shape.

Overhead, the warning alarm continued its awful screech.

It had not been easy getting out of his cube. In fact, it had been quite hard, but the sun on his face and the air in his lungs made the effort worth it.

Escape had never been a consideration before.

Last night had changed all that.

After waking the first time to the storm of mental images and his rudimentary attempts to capture it on paper, Omega had nestled back down into his cot and tried to sleep. At first, slumber did come. So did new dreams, new images, steadily increasing in force.

He understood none of it, but had the feeling that he should. Crazed lettering, some that almost looked like the English alphabet but slightly askew. Others looked positively alien to him, illuminated and searing, more unique and distinctive than Asian characters.

Then the voices came--in a strange tongue that he could, of course, not understand. Nevertheless, the urging in the voice was impossible to miss. A vaguely male voice, strong and sure, woke him. Listening, at first the words were gibberish, mere garbles. The more he listened, the more he could almost make them out, almost understand.

A powerful urge to flee overcame him as the strange language bore into him. He became nervous, unsettled. There was a coming catastrophe and it was heading straight for him. He was sure of it, completely convinced. He just didn’t know how, or what, or when. No, that wasn’t right. He knew when. Soon. Very soon.

   For the first time in his life, Omega had trusted his instinct, had listened to his conscience.

It wasn’t easy, but he could have easily imagined it being much more difficult. The soldier was escorting him to an exam. What kind of exam wasn’t shared with him. Omega had almost lost his nerve. The soldier, a corporal by the name of Clancy, had been polite and didn’t hazard sideways glances as they walked.

From his cube, Clancy led Omega past a checkpoint, which was solely responsible for making sure no one entered the cube with Omega and that he didn’t leave the cube without prior authorization. From there, the attendant would lead him through the lab areas down any of half a dozen corridors. While the medical region of the base didn’t differ greatly from the research space, different individuals in different areas performed different tasks.

They passed the swinging doorway leading to the recreation and break room, where Omega would have his last chance of taking action before they arrived at the second, and final, checkpoint. Clancy was walking on Omega’s right, a half step behind. The aluminum doors swung open and a group of men just finishing breakfast--more involved in telling jokes than where they were going, or what lay in their way, crashed right out into the hallway. The lead man was big, larger than even Omega, and had been carrying a thermos he was busy tightening the lid on. He had not yet threaded the lid down sufficiently. As he crashed into Clancy, his grip loosened and the thermos toppled into the air, splashing waves of hot coffee on just about everyone.

“Watch it, buddy.”

“Aww, hell, that’s hot.”

“What in the…”

It was a scurry of activity. Poor Clancy received the most of the hot java. Unfortunately, quite a bit spilled onto the tile floor and the big man slipped, grabbing hold of Clancy’s shirt to keep him from crashing to the floor.

If he hadn’t been waiting for a window of opportunity, he’d easily missed it. But he had, and he did not. He reached for the larger man, catching him in one arm. The other slipped quickly to his shirt, plucked his identification badge free, and then, with both hands, Omega helped him to his feet.

Then, as poor Clancy received the what for, Omega simply turned and walked away. He was swift, but not quite running. By the time he’d heard shouts behind him, he was already around the corner. He ran past a bank of lifts, tapped the button to go down, but continued on. Badging at a door sensor, Omega slipped into a stairwell just as the elevator doors glided open. He took care the door did not slam behind him and took the steps three at a time, ascending quickly and silently. Two floors up, he pushed out into another hall. With the mazes of hallways, all looking the same, disorientation was not out of the question. Focused on the task, Omega paid close attention. He didn’t want to catch a ride up to ground level in an elevator, but the stairs were both too risky and would take too long, even at an out and out run.

With the ID card tight in his hand, he sprinted from the stairwell door to the nearest elevator. Once inside, he pushed for the top, but found he had to use the card before that particular button would activate. Surprised the alarm had not yet sounded, Omega knew it would within seconds.

The ride to the top took forever and he had time enough to consider and regret what he was doing. It was too late. Something horrible would happen and he had to get away. Even if he wanted to, there was no turning back now.

The car stopped and the doors parted.

No one stood outside waiting for him. Just beyond the doors was a large but dim and non-descript room. Large compared to the spaces underground, it resembled a storeroom. It was all for show. Omega knew that much. It was meant to deceive, just as everything he knew was.