Chapter 13
They put the helicopter down about a mile out from the military compound in Allentown. Neither agent was very happy about the choice, but it was the only way to ensure that Valda didn't catch onto the agents, and the only way to retain the precious element of surprise.
Pete's back was protesting every movement, but he'd reasoned with Myka on the ride down that he'd walked a lot farther and fought a lot more with worse injuries before. His jaw felt like it was a mile wide, but other than that the only frightening aspect of that injury was the bruise, which had shown no sign of fading anytime soon.
As they exited the chopper, the buzz of the Farnsworth squawked over the decaying drone of the propellers. Myka opened the cover. "Artie, we just touched down. What's the status on Valda's car?"
"We had a satellite camera following him on interstate 78, but he took the exit in Easton around twenty minutes ago. Easton is, give or take, thirty minutes away from the Allentown Department of Defense base. He should be getting close by now. Be careful." Myka promised with a nod. "We've had an... interesting turn of events here, but that will have to wait 'till you get back. Remember, get the device, and try, TRY, to stay OUT of Valda's way." The screen went black.
Pete sighed. "Don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty sick of 'interesting turns of events'." He did his best Artie impression, which still wasn't very good.
Myka chuckled lightly, before asking, "Where is this base at again?"
"I believe the term 'nondescript warehouse on the outside of the city' was used." Pete answered, pointing in the direction. "Apparently, there's only two or three armed sentries there at all times, but if Valda is there I don't want to tip him off by going in through the front door. Think Mrs. Frederic will mind if we break in?"
"I doubt it." Myka said, while walking in the supposed direction of the base.
Pete checked his watch. "We should get there just in time. But we'll have to run."
Their shoes crunched through the shin-high grass as they jogged toward the compound. Pete looked at the sun, barely peeking over the horizon through the treeline, and he was grateful that they would have some nighttime cover as well as the element of surprise on their side.
After a few minutes of running, they came to the wooded area they had circled around in the chopper. And eventually, they were stopped by an eight-foot tall barbed-wire fence, behind which was a dirt road with the telltale signs, literal and otherwise, of military use.
Myka made quick work of the fence by tossing her jacket over the barbs and deftly climbing and swinging over the top like a gymnast. She landed softly and turned around, clapping the non-existent dust off of her hands.
"Christ, Myka." Pete whispered before trying the feat himself. After a few seconds, Pete managed to get over the fence, albiet with a little less flashiness than Myka's effort. He landed with a huff and smiled to himself, while Myka looked surprised. "What? I was a Marine, you know." Myka started running again. Pete followed, calling, "You know, for every cookie I eat, I do like a thousand sit-ups!"
"Shhhh!" Myka slowed to a calculated and silent walk.
They had come upon a security gate, which was the last barrier before the compound. The guard shack next to the road was empty, and parked in front of it was a very familiar black sedan.
"Myka, let's get off the road." Pete uttered, underneath the sound of the wind. By then, darkness had encroached enough to hide them in the shade of the forest.
As they neared, they could see that the driver door to the sedan was ajar, and the accompanying annoying pinging noise echoed suspiciously outward. Pete pulled his gun out and pointed it forward, ready to fire at any moment, and he heard the faint buzzing of Myka's Tesla behind him.
Pete crouched down below the window line of the back seat door and slid his fingers slowly under the handle. He nodded to Myka, and, in one swift movement, he opened the door and threw the upper half of his body into the car, with gun raised. He was greeted by stale air and a barren back seat.
"It's empty. They're inside already." Pete shot up and out, and walked quickly toward the gate. Myka, noticing something, stopped behind him.
"Pete!"
He turned around and saw that she was looking into the guard box. It wasn't empty, but it's occupant was no longer living.
The guard was slumped in his chair over the small countertop. He had been shot twice, once in the chest and once in the head, and out of each exit-wound grew what seemed to be a red Bonsai tree, whose roots were curling in and out of the man's skin like the forest in which they now stood. Pete's stomach turned and so did his head. He felt bad for the man, but there was nothing they could do now except stop the psycho responsible.
He clenched his teeth and continued forward, imploring Myka to follow.
They made their way down the dirt road that circled the windowless white warehouse until they came upon a large garage door that had been forced open.
Pete and Myka silently sidled along the ruffled wall toward the opening. They heard an echo-y voice from inside. As Pete got closer to the door, he could hear the voice sounded alert and authoritative. Another guard? Pete thought.
He held his hand up for Myka to stop.
Pete inched closer, and peered his head around the corner, trying to keep as much of his body out of view as possible. Luckily, nobody was looking in the garage door's direction.
A single guard had both Valda and Aries at gunpoint. The men were in the center of the rather small warehouse, which Pete noticed was spectacularly empty except for a couple white, windowless (Big surprise, Pete thought) vans tucked away in the corner of the room. There was also what Pete assumed to be an office of some kind on the opposite end. He saw nothing that looked like a dream-reader device anywhere.
"I said put your god-damn hands over your head!" The assault rifle-wielding soldier shouted to the intruders. Neither of them assented.
"You're making a big mistake, soldier. I'm with the Secret Service. What is your name?" Valda still had that infuriating smugness about his voice. It made Pete want to burst in there and open fire, but at that moment Myka's hand patted him, and gripped his shoulder supportively. He restrained himself.
"I'm asking the questions, asshole! I heard shots out there. I will not hesitate to open fire. Identify yourself, NOW!"
The corner of Valda's mouth curled up ever-so-slightly, and he instantaneously pulled the Jesse James pistol out of its holster and sent a bullet flying. The kid didn't stand a chance. A few rounds from the assault rifle flew into the ceiling as its bearer fell backwards into the cold, now red, cement. The firearm spun and skittered several feet away. The soldier moaned loudly, clutching his gut. Valda wanted this man to suffer, apparently.
Pete restrained himself yet again from running in. Instead, he watched as Valda and Aries made their way over to a computer panel that Pete didn't notice before. The psychopath typed something into the panel, and a good quarter of the floor started to descend into the ground. A three foot-high safety railing automatically rose up and around the edges with a machinery hum.
A cargo elevator? Pete thought. There is definitely more to this place than meets the eye.
He waited for the two men's heads to disappear underground before he motioned for him and Myka to move around the corner.
Pete walked immediately over to the wounded guard. He reached for his badge to show the soldier, but he remembered he left it in 1976, and then laughed inwardly at how casually he recalled that fact.
Myka had the same idea though, and knelt down next to the soldier showing her badge. "Secret Service. What's your name, soldier?"
"Corporal Thomas... Ungh... Thomas Gravely, United States Marine Corps." He began to shift his body up.
"No, no! Don't move. We're gonna call for help... You're... gonna be fine. You just need to stay still, okay?" The soldier nodded. Myka was lying, and Pete could tell it pained her. Hell, it pained him to watch her. Both the Secret Service agents knew that, any moment now, the soldier would meet a horrifying and unfortunate end at the hands of the Jesse James gun.
"Semper Fi, Corporal." Pete said out of habit, kneeling to join his partner. "We're after the man who just shot you. Is there any other way down there? We can't call the elevator back without alerting them. And it's really important that he doesn't know that we're after him." His voice was soft with pity.
The corporal looked over to the elevator and pointed, speaking with pained words. "There's an emergency ladder that runs along the shaft."
"Thank you, Corporal. You've served your country very well." He said, while he stood up to walk toward the elevator shaft. Pete truly didn't know what to say to the doomed soldier. By some stroke of luck, if he could call it that, the artifact gun sent Pete through time rather than doing something more deadly. Pete hoped to God that the kid would be spared like he was.
Myka remained kneeling next to the Marine. "Corporal, I also want to ask you if you know anything about a device called the 'dream-reader', it's supposed to be stored here somewhere."
The soldier shook his head, breathing heavily, "I don't know what they keep down there. They got a guy down there, an inventory guy. He should be able to hel- AHHHHH!"
The soldier was interrupted by a stream of deep red, finger-sized ants that started pouring ferociously out of his gut wound. Myka shrieked and jumped back from the flood of vicious creatures that seemed to swallow the screaming soldier whole in one second and stop his thrashing about in the next.
"MYKA!" Pete bellowed, running toward her. He grunted loudly as he slipped on the soldier's discarded rifle, and took a hard fall to the shoulder.
Pete rolled over and watched, terrified and helpless, as Myka stumbled back over the railing and into the open elevator shaft.