When the rains may come (Science Fiction)

17. The Fortress

"What's the location?" Luce had asked the operative while the squad went to the West Wing to gear up and fall in.

"It's not too far from here, sir," the operative said as he handed Luce a tablet on which the map of Sector 22 was illuminated. Two dots were glinting at the same spot on the map.

"What's the green dot?" Luce asked.

"That's Lisa Neville's cellphone," the operative said.

"And what's the blue dot?"

"It is the location of the truck."

The Neville woman and the truck were at the same location? Luce thought. This was no coincidence. The truck was a special grade equipment. If Lisa Neville had survived the rain, then that meant she must've gotten in that truck. How did she do it though?

The girls managing to outrun the airport security was one thing. But taking on a squad of operatives riding a special grade military truck couldn't have been a stroke of luck. This could only mean one thing.

Someone on the inside had gone rogue. Or maybe someone had infiltrated the airport security ranks and gotten access to the government cargo.

Luce looked up from the tablet. "How did you let someone take the truck from the carrier?"

"The truck was already out on its way before we could know that it was part of special grade cargo," the airport security chief said. "The squad that left in it must've confused it for an official pursuit vehicle."

That didn't make much sense to Luce. The government freight carrier was locked with a twenty digit code that can only be entered from a remote device linked to the locking mechanism. How the hell did someone get their hands on the remote? "Who was assigned the duty to take care of the carrier remote?" he asked the chief.

The chief scrolled through his own tablet screen. "It was Greg Marllowe," he said.

"Where's Marllowe?" Luce asked.

The door to the control room swung open. An operative walked in and snapped a salute before saying, "Sir, we discovered a corpse in the men's restroom. It's Greg."

###

It had been two seconds since Marllowe noticed the attack helicopter approaching, the machine guns on either side of the copter started to spray bullets at them.

He grabbed Cathy by the waist and hauled her over his shoulder. He bolted for the truck. "Mrs. Neville, start the truck!" he screamed.

"How do I start it? There's no goddamn key!" Lisa screamed back.

Marllowe groaned. The special grade military weapon crap. That meant no keys, you had to enter a damn sequence.

He tried to speed up as he ran. But one of the automatic machine gun bullets struck him in the back and he slammed helmet-first into the broken asphalt.

He cried in pain. Cathy was still growling under her gag next to him. The bullet hadn't pierced his armor but it certainly punched him through several layers of kevlar that had saved his life. It was like getting struck by a sledge hammer. The bastards might've dislocated his shoulder blade.

He groaned harder under his helmet. The truck was just a few feet away from him and Cathy. The bullets kept spraying. Another one of those projectiles were going to get him in just the right spot and it would be game over for him. He had to get moving now!

Marllowe staggered up to his feet and made one last mad dash for the truck. Cathy's wild flailing in his arms didn't make it any easier. But he managed to jump into the trailer through the back and hit the hatch button. Luckily, no bullets found him while the door closed.