February 3, 2019
Arthur fidgeted in the waiting room chair, glancing at his watch for the fiftieth time in an hour. His probe broke atmosphere three weeks ago and since then, had been held in the International Decontamination Bureau (IDB), on the Kerguelen Islands, known to most as the Desolation Islands. The location was chosen specifically for its remoteness.
A six-day boat ride from the coast of Madagascar was the first step. Then a short jeep ride and he was shown to a drafty tent for the duration of his stay. For the last week, he’d been coming to the office every day to see if the items his rover collected were deemed safe and would finally be released to him.
A short man with a stocky build opened a door, which Arthur never noticed. “Dr. Covington, follow me please.”
Arthur shot out of his seat so fast he knocked it to the ground. The metal legs clanged loudly on the concrete floor, he blushed bright red, corrected the chair, and then trailed after the man.
An antiseptic looking hallway with bright lights and doors with strange sequences of numbers diverted his attention briefly. When the man opened the door to some sort of observation room, he got back on track.
“Are my samples ready? I need to start work right away,” Arthur asked with enthusiasm.
The man walked over to a stool and sat as he picked up a tablet and turned it for Arthur to see.
“Dr. Covington, I’m sure you understand our first priority is to make sure nothing is brought into the world at large that could harm the population, or might have the potential to cause harm.”
Arthur moved forward and took the proffered object. His eyes scanned the information, but his brain couldn’t believe what he was reading.
“This can’t be right. Every single rock is contaminated with an ‘unknown element’.”
“We ran the tests four times. I’m sorry, Doctor.”
“But that’s the whole reason I sent the probe, to see what’s out there. I need to study this.”
“I’m sorry, we’re keeping the samples. They need to be locked away so nothing happens. Good day, Doctor.”
A hand grabbed Arthur from behind and he was led like a limp dishrag to the waiting room. All that time and money wasted. What would the people at Sunset Inc. say? They’d warned him about the importance of his work.
Fear knotted his stomach, and on the walk back to his tent, his head filled with every worst-case scenario he could imagine. All of them ended with him dead in an alley somewhere, with a gun in his mouth. He couldn’t go back to being a nobody.
Ten minutes later, his meager belongings were packed up and a jeep waited to take him to the boat. Funny how everything was timed just right. The next six days, he would debate whether to throw himself off the side and into the sea.
Drew Hawkins glanced around the room as he took a few of the recently arrived samples out of the bin. He grabbed four, and put each on the scale, except one. The digital readings popped up a second later for samples #47-49.
Retrieving the rocks, he placed the sticker with the corresponding number on them and set them next to the matching digits in a special container designed to insulate them as much as possible. He didn’t know what the big deal was. They were stones, so where they came from didn’t matter. He never understood why scientists got so uppity about things. There were so many rules and protocols, he wondered when the addendum would come down the chain of command about what color underwear was appropriate.
At least that’s what the secret agent who’d offered him over a million dollars for a single sample convinced him of. Drew wasn’t doing anything wrong. In fact, he was helping the world. Who knew what might be in these rocks; alternative fuel and energy sources or perhaps a cure for cancer.
His new friend bought him his favorite comics and even let him watch one of the scarier movies his uncle said no to. No matter how often he asked, the secret agent refused to say whom he worked for; just that it was better Drew didn’t know – for his own safety.
The coolest thing ever was having a spy as his new best friend, but he made sure no one else knew. He wanted to keep this all for himself. Plus, his friend warned him something bad would happen to Drew’s uncle if he told. When Drew thought about what the man proposed one evening, his first reaction was to say no. After some prodding and words of encouragement, as well as talk of money, Drew agreed.
Hell, he should be getting a medal for what he was doing. He knelt down to adjust the secure strip around his ankle and slid the rock inside. Once he entered the decontamination shower, he would slip it in a sock and put it in his bag.
Everyone loved him and most people let him pass the usual security measures, because a guy like him wouldn’t do anything wrong. His uncle let him work there doing simple tasks like weighing things or mopping the floors when they were in-between collections. They called him slow and harmless. He tried not to sneer behind his cloth mask. He guessed none of them was special enough to have a million dollars held under their nose as incentive.
Three hours later, everything went according to plan. He met the secret agent in a restaurant and handed him the sock underneath the table. He didn’t know if it was necessary, but he felt super cool doing it, like one of his heroes in the comics. A second later, the smile fell from his face as two red dots blossomed across his chest.
The man stood and tucked a napkin in Drew’s collar, then made his way out. He was over a mile away when the waitress realized what happened and she let out a scream.
Frank unholstered his FNP-9, enjoying its lighter weight.
Time to be a bad guy, he thought to himself.
Four other men were with him. All were dressed in black and wearing masks to avoid identification. He didn’t know their names and it didn’t matter, he couldn’t tell who was who anyways. Not to mention, in this line of work, anonymity was the key to success. Their job was simple, go in and take the rocks using whatever force necessary.
Frank unzipped the small bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a device about the size of a golf ball. He twisted it and waited for the red light to turn green. Seven seconds later, all the facilities lights went off, and a vehicle driving by stuttered to a halt.
The driver got out and Frank aimed his SCAR-Light, pulling the trigger. The man’s head popped like a grape before the sound of the gun firing ricocheted off the walls. Two soldiers on patrol saw their co-worker fall to the ground and they spread out to investigate.
Frank motioned to the team and split up. The guard on his right walked toward the alley and after a cursory glance, seemed to think it wasn’t a threat. Picking up a loose piece of concrete, Frank tossed it to the side of where they were hiding.
A moment’s hesitation and the guard resumed his inspection. As soon as the muzzle of his weapon came into view, Frank sprang up from behind the pallets and grabbed the man’s right arm, yanking it high and hard. The shoulder came out of its socket with an audible pop. Before the guard had a chance to scream, Frank reached up and around his face, taking hold of the neck and pulling hard.
He caught the body and pulled it to where they hid. A second later, the other half of his team appeared, their target neutralized.
“Alright, girls, you ready to earn your money?”
Frank kicked the door in and put a bullet in the forehead of the secretary before she had time to hit the alarm. The back of her skull hung next to the plastic fichus. The security cameras, disabled a few moments earlier by the EMP, didn’t muffle gunfire. Frank knew they needed to move fast. They had to take everyone out; no one left alive.
Several guards rushed out of a side door, but the small entrance created a bottleneck and Frank’s team picked them off easily. Within seconds, a pile of dead bodies lay on the ground, blood and guts covering the once pristine walls.
Frank walked to the open doorway and tossed a flash bang grenade down the hall to be safe. When it exploded, shrieks echoed down the corridor and sent his men ahead. More screams and gunfire. When it stopped, he crossed over the threshold and headed for the containment room. He pulled out a small piece of paper to cross-reference the lot numbers.
The board wanted four cases in particular, based on the results they’d intercepted from the IDB server. Some naughty people, not unlike those he worked for, wanted the rocks all for themselves. Some sort of new life was discovered and they discarded Covington like trash.
They’d never expected his new engine design to work, and therefore, didn’t expect his probe to make it back. When it landed, the stir it caused was extraordinary. Of course, Covington would never know any of this. Poor guy would never know he did something people thought impossible, and discovered a new life form as a bonus.
Then again, when they showed him his lab and set him to work, he’d uncover more than these idiots. A whimper caught Frank’s attention and he saw a short stocky man crawling toward him. Bullet holes littered his legs and a nasty looking wound in his side hemorrhaged blood.
“You can’t take those. You have no idea what sort of foreign matter is in them.”
Frank met the man half way while he motioned the others to take out the crates. “I can do whatever I want.” A crunching noise was heard as Frank’s boot crushed the shredded side of the man. His screams bouncing around the room slowly faded.
Pulling the bag off his shoulder, he unzipped revealing a bomb with enough C-4 to demolish a small city. He stuck the timer in the clay-like substance and set it for five minutes.
Outside the building, the seaplane was loaded, while the engine roared to life. He sloshed his way over and climbed inside. The pilot was one of corporate’s guys. They winked at one another and the plane moved out, soaring into the air as a fire cloud erupted behind them.
An hour into the flight, Frank pulled out a bottle of rum and passed it around to the others. Three of the four took healthy swigs, but one declined. Frank pushed the bottle at him.
“Come on, it’s how we celebrate a job well done.”
The man said no once again. Frank mentally sighed. Why was there always one health nut on a hit squad? With a smile, Frank put the bottle away and waited. A few minutes later, the others let out jaw cracking yawns. Time was up. Frank pulled a serrated blade from a sheath on his hip and drove it into the chest of the goody two shoes.
The man clawed at Frank’s hands and twitched underneath him with wide eyes. Pink froth bubbled out of his mouth and Frank eased the knife out.
“Martin, it’s time,” Frank called out to the pilot.
Martin secured himself and waited as Frank tied a belt around his waist and then clipped it to a metal loop above the door. Then he pulled a lever and opened the entry. He rolled each body out and watched as they plummeted to their death.
As the door closed, he let a genuine smile cross his face. His time was almost up and then he would get his posting in Weapons Development. The only thing left on his list of things to do was shove Dr. Covington into his lab.
He unclipped the safety belt and sat in the co-pilots seat with a sigh.