Rend, p.16
Rend, page 16
“Good,” he replied as Sergeant Helms walked up.
“Thank you again, Kestrel,” the sergeant said and stuck out his hand.
Asher took it and shook it firmly. “No problem, Sergeant. I’m coming back to the headquarters with you though.”
The man looked back and forth between Asher and Allyson before replying. “That’s great. I’ll see you up there then,” he said as he gestured toward the helicopter hovering thirty feet overhead.
“Yeah, see you up there, man.”
The harness slowly lowered from the helicopter and Asher helped Sergeant Helms align the straps across his back so they weren’t twisted. Twists in the harness straps increased the chance of breakage and those straps were the key to keeping the contraption from turning upside down and potentially spilling the man from the seat. He gave the thumbs up to the crew chief looking over the side and the chief pressed the button to pull the harness upwards.
After a few minutes Helms was properly situated and the harness began the slow decent toward the roof again. Asher climbed into it and felt hands assisting him with the back straps the same as he’d helped the sergeant. Once he was set, he lifted his feet off the roof and dangled suspended for a moment before giving the signal to the crew chief above. He watched as Allyson’s upturned face shrank below him and he wondered if he’d ever see her again.
SIX
09 March, 0245 hrs local
FBI Forward Field Headquarters
Quantico, Virginia
The near-scalding water cascaded down Allyson’s naked body and pooled at her feet. She’d followed strict protocol to shave everything but her head so the decontamination would be easier today than trying to sift through hair in various places and crevasses. She grinned in spite of herself, remembering Asher’s surprise when he discovered that tidbit of information.
The Bureau’s scientists had ensured her and the team that they would be safe using only soap and water to wash away the radiation. They’d explained to them that there were three types of radiation, Alpha and Beta particles and Gamma rays. The particles would sit on their skin unless they washed them off with regular soap and they believed that the Gamma rays, which were the most harmful, would be minimal in the stable environment within The Wall.
Allyson hung her head down and let the water run through her auburn hair. The cleansing rivulets flowed down over her clavicle and sped down her breasts, leaping into mid-air off her semi-erect nipples. She relished the warmth of the shower, even though only five minutes prior, she’d been sweating under the multiple layers of clothing and the mesh sharksuit.
After a few minutes of simply relaxing in the shower, she took the soap-impregnated sponge that she’d been instructed to use and began to scrub her stomach, but thought better of it. She set the sponge back down in the soap dish and grabbed the bottle of shampoo instead.
The liquid felt a little thicker than her normal brand as she massaged it into her scalp to create a frothy lather. Once she was satisfied that every inch of hair had been touched by the shampoo she allowed the water to rinse her hair clean again. She applied the conditioner that the technician had handed her and then began the arduous process of scrubbing her body with the sponge. She smiled again as she closed her eyes and imagined Asher assisting her with the task.
She finally completed her decontamination shower and reluctantly turned off the flow. It was late and she’d had an extremely long day, but she knew that the deputy director waited for her in the conference room with the others for debriefing. Undoubtedly, the men had finished their own decontamination half an hour ago and cursed her for taking so long, but they didn’t have shoulder-length hair to contend with. She grimaced as she used the rough towel they’d given her and made a note to herself that if she ever had to go into the city again, she’d bring her own from home.
Allyson was finally ready to go and cringed when she examined herself in the mirror. The bland FBI sweatshirt and sweatpants that they’d provided for her did nothing to hide her breasts. Somehow, her entire body seemed like one big blob except for the two points offset to either side of the letters “F” and “I”, which clearly indicated the location of her erect nipples from the gentle rubbing of the sweatshirt against them. She mentally added a bra and panties to her list of supplies for the next trip as well.
She searched around the small locker room, but didn’t find anything to alleviate the problem. Obviously, a male had picked out the clothing believing that the general frumpiness of a sweatshirt and pants would conceal all of the wearer’s private parts. It sure didn’t hide much on her. After a second search yielded the same results, she finally gave in and decided she couldn’t do anything except cross her arms over her chest when she leaned back.
As she walked toward the conference room, she consciously pushed the bottom of the shirt up to add more material to the front of her body. She walked in as the deputy director was making small talk with Caleb Campbell and Keith Eubanks.
“Ah, Agent Harper, I’m glad that you were able to get cleaned up. Radiation is nasty stuff.”
“I’m sorry I took so long, Mr. Reston,” she replied while she stumbled over to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup.
“Nonsense, Allyson. We all understand that you can’t be too careful when it comes to scrubbing off the radiation particles. Besides, the others would be lying to you if they told you that they’d been here long themselves.”
She nodded her head and added cream and sugar to her coffee. Then she sat down at the table and pulled a banana from the bowl in the middle of the table. It had been almost twenty hours since she’d eaten yesterday morning and she felt like she was starving.
Reston jumped up and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, then set it in front of her. “Don’t just drink coffee, drink water too,” he ordered. “You may not realize it yet, but your body just went through a short period of shock. Wearing all that gear for such an extended period of time, without the ability to take in any fluids, can dehydrate you quickly.”
She twisted the cap off and took a drink from the bottle. “Thank you, sir.”
The deputy director slapped one hand down lightly on the table and said, “Okay. You guys keep eating and drinking. The director is going to attend the after action review via VTC in a few minutes. Once she comes on screen, I’ll open it up with some comments and then we’ll get into it so you folks can get some sleep.”
The three of them busied themselves with the fruit and doughnuts on the table. Allyson knew that she needed to get some calories in her. If she only ate the fruit for an entire meal she’d likely end up in the bathroom all day, so after she finished an apple, she picked up a simple glazed doughnut as well. At this hour, there weren’t many options besides the twenty-four hour convenience store a few miles away from the field office, so she was thankful to have anything.
After a few moments, the screen on the wall flickered to life as the far station dialed into their site’s VTC. The back wall of the headquarters conference room and the painted logo of the FBI dominated the screen as the camera operator zoomed out slowly to show a group of men and women seated around a large table. Director Flannigan sat in the center of the camera frame and Reston tapped a button to unmute the microphones.
“Good morning, Director. How’s the weather out in Denver?”
“Morning, Alistair. We had a snowstorm wallop us out of nowhere last night, but other than that, we’re doing pretty well. I recognize Agent Harper from the picture in her profile, but who else have you got there?”
“Ma’am, we’ve got Allyson Harper, like you mentioned,” Reston paused as Allyson waved toward the camera. “We’ve also got Keith Eubanks, the artifacts recovery team lead, and Agent Caleb Campbell, the combined HRT lead.”
“Where’s the man from the Agency? The one we fought so hard to get for this mission,” the director clarified.
“Mr. Hawke performed excellently on the mission up until the point where the helicopter was shot down,” Reston stated in a flat monotone that indicated that he’d rehearsed this line several times. “He reverted to his prior training and disobeyed a direct order to not go after the helicopter crew. Hawke risked his own life and the life of an HRT member who he convinced to go with him.”
“Wait a minute, sir. That’s not how it happened,” Campbell burst out.
“Do you have something to add to this discussion Agent Campbell?” the director asked.
“Yes, ma’am, I do. Kestrel— I mean Mr. Hawke and I volunteered to go to the crash site. Agent Harper authorized us to go. We were about halfway to the crash site when a large group of zombies attacked us. We fought them off and when we reported it to Agent Harper, she decided that it wasn’t worth the risk and ordered us back to the primary mission of recovering the documents.”
“And you disobeyed her as well?” Director Flannigan asked.
“Ma’am, I would have returned as ordered,” Campbell replied, “but the deputy director had given us a strict order to only travel in groups of two or more, so I was stuck out in the city without a partner. Hell, if it hadn’t been for Hawke, I would have been dead after the first encounter. He saved my life and we saved Sergeant Helm’s life at the crash site.”
“That’s correct,” Reston cut in. “Mr. Hawke and Agent Campbell rescued a crewmember, who’s recovering in our aide station now. However, I ultimately support Agent Harper’s decision to pull Mr. Hawke from the mission since he’d disobeyed her order to return and assist with the mission’s primary objective.”
“I see,” the director answered. “I don’t agree with the decision since they did rescue a crewman who would have otherwise been killed, but I’m also smart enough to know better than to second-guess an agent in the field from the comfort of my office, especially in those conditions.
“Ok, let’s move past this,” she continued. “I received a message that said you recovered all six encasements that were the primary focus of this mission. Is that information accurate?”
Reston gestured toward Allyson to answer. She unconsciously leaned forward and placed her forearms onto the table. “Yes, ma’am. We achieved our objectives of rescuing all four pages of the US Constitution, the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights. We also pre-positioned the remaining twenty-two encasements that hold the final seventeen amendments to the Constitution and the copy of the Magna Carta. The Archives building is secured from the inside against intrusion, so all we will have to do is insert a small team onto the roof, which is now clear of debris so we don’t have to land on the National Mall again.”
“Good job, Agent Harper,” the director praised. “Alistair tells me that we have a team on site that is assessing how to remove the documents from the original encasements without damaging them. We’ll insert another team in the next couple of days and secure the remaining encasements that weren’t part of your original mission. I think your entire team has earned a few days off after we get done with this debrief.”
“Of course, ma’am,” the deputy director replied.
Director Flannigan paused and then looked through some notes on the table in front her. “Now, what about the incident at the Gallery of Art? I don’t see anything in the email rundown from you, Alistair.”
“I haven’t been briefed on the operation yet either, ma’am,” Reston answered. “I knew that they cleared the building, but I don’t have any details yet because the team was in flight and then had to be decontaminated.”
“Ok then, let’s hear it. What happened?”
Allyson spoke first, “Ma’am, we’d just loaded the Declaration of Independence on a helicopter and flew it out. We deemed the Declaration was by far the most valuable document, so we wanted to ensure that it was preserved as soon as possible. We had a helicopter providing overhead watch that spotted the snipers across the way and—”
“That’s not entirely accurate either,” Campbell cut in again. “My team spotted the snipers when we were cleaning debris off the roof of Archives and I called in the helicopter crew to take a closer look. We weren’t sure if they were active shooters or just bodies.”
Allyson stared at him for a moment. No wonder Asher thinks he’s a kiss-ass. “The helicopter flew overhead and the snipers on the roof shot the pilot and the helicopter crashed,” she continued. “That’s when Asher Hawke and Agent Campbell went after the downed aircraft.”
“They went outside, even though there was a sniper on the roof?” the director asked.
“No, ma’am,” Campbell replied. “When the helicopter went down, one of the men ran to the edge to watch and my men shot and killed him, the other tried to escape back inside the building through the roof access door, but he was shot several times. We later confirmed that he died on the scene as well.”
“Okay, so walk me through what happened,” the director ordered.
“Once the Charters of Freedom were secured, the rescued helicopter crewman was loaded up and everything was on its way back to the safe side of The Wall, I directed Agent Campbell to lead one of the HRT squads across the street to figure out what was happening at the Gallery,” Allyson stated.
Then she glanced away from the camera toward Caleb and said, “Maybe it’s better if you tell the rest of the brief since you were on scene. If there’s anything you miss that I knew about through reports, then I’ll step in.”
Campbell nodded and replied, “Okay, sounds good. Like Agent Harper said, I led a team across the street to the southeast to infiltrate the Gallery. The fog had really thickened up for some reason and it was difficult to see more than a few feet in any direction. A small group of zombies appeared out of that brown sludge in the air and attacked.
“Luckily, we didn’t suffer any real casualties because of the sharksuits that Hawke had ordered that we wear under our gear.”
“Wait,” Director Flannigan held up her hand in an effort to stop Campbell. “What do you mean by ‘sharksuit’?”
“It’s a metal mesh suit designed to deflect the bites of sharks,” Allyson answered. “Hawke discussed a few options with our subject matter experts, Grayson Donnelly and Hank Dawson, and they decided that the ability to move freely while still maintaining a defensive capability against the teeth and claws of the zombies was important and well worth the weight of the suits.”
“Interesting. I’ll have to share this info with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Maybe they can order enough of them to outfit the units who have duty on The Wall… Okay, I’m sorry. Go ahead,” the director motioned for Campbell to continue.
“Yes, ma’am. When they attacked en masse, their tactic was to pile up on top of us and use their body weight to hold us down while they tried to penetrate our clothing. We were able to kill enough of them to get back on our feet and then it was a matter of simply dispatching targets with headshots.
“We made our way around to the front of the Gallery of Art and the doors were locked from the inside. I ordered one of our men to breach the lock with a shotgun and we were inside. I’ve never been to the Gallery before, but I assume that there used to be pictures on the walls and priceless works of art everywhere. We walked into a mostly empty room. There were only a few heavy statues left; except for a small pile of shrink-wrapped items and a shrink-wrap machine, the rest of the artwork was missing.”
“Wait, sorry I keep interrupting you,” Director Flannigan said. “Shrink wrap machine? And everything is missing? Are you saying that someone’s been in there stealing artwork?”
“Yes, ma’am. We searched the Gallery, but didn’t find anyone. We did find several small handcarts at the eastern service entrance and the door was unlocked, indicating that there was some type of crew in the building systematically clearing out the artwork and transporting it out of the city. They probably ran off when the snipers on the roof were killed.”
“So you didn’t find anyone else?”
“No, ma’am. We did find several rooms upstairs that still had paintings and sculptures; they must not have gotten to them yet. I doubt they’ll be back anytime soon though. We secured the building the best we could and had to fight through a few zombies who’d gathered at the base of the stairs leading into the Archives. Then we secured the Archive doors from the inside against intruders and went onto the roof for extraction.”
Allyson picked up the briefing from there. “We used the SPIE rigs that we’d previously planned to use to get the team out of the city and after an exhilarating ride suspended over the ruins and the thousands of zombies hidden in the radioactive mist below us, we arrived at the airfield here. I sent the team to begin decontamination while I verified that the documents made it safely out. After I got a confirmation that they did, I went through the decontamination chamber myself. Then I got cleaned up and came into the conference room for this briefing.”
“Did we lose anyone else besides the helicopter crew, Alistair?”
“No, ma’am,” the deputy director answered. “The Army lost the three personnel and the Blackhawk helicopter in the mission. We inserted twenty-two people behind The Wall and the mission would have been a total success without any casualties at all if it hadn’t been for the snipers on the roof.
“I’ve given this some thought and I believe that the zombie threat is not as grave as we’ve been led to believe,” he continued. “This isn’t the movies and we dealt handily with hundreds of the creatures with no problems. I believe the evidence points to the fact that we can begin eradicating these creatures so we don’t have to be worried about them escaping and infecting a few people before we can contain them again.”
“That’s an interesting position, Reston. Why don’t you write up a White Paper about your thoughts on the feasibility of clearing out the undead from Washington?” the director said.
“I’d love to, ma’am,” he replied. “I’ve been putting a few ideas on paper and I’ve already got it mostly written. Yesterday’s mission solidified in my mind that it’s feasible; the only limitation would be ammo. From what I’ve seen, we could send in a few hundred soldiers and keep resupplying them ammo. We’d be done in no time.”
