Anticraft

Anticraft-Beyond Redemption

Prologue

Resonance Center (July 3, 2032)

Declan ran faster, his footsteps echoing on the concrete floor of the underground parking lot. A blast from an Mk83 whizzed past him and slammed into a parked SUV. It exploded in a thunderous boom, scattering blazing metal parts in a deadly arc. He instinctively ducked behind a pillar, but felt a searing pain in his right arm. One of the flying missles had sliced through his forearm. He dodged another shot and this one blasted a hole through the thick concrete wall just ahead of him.

His earpiece crackled and came to life.

"Declan?" Samantha`s voice sounded in his ears. He could hear the worry in her soft lilting tone. "What is your status?"

"Let me get back to you on that one darling," Declan panted, examining his injured arm. The wound was jagged and steadily oozing blood. Already, he felt light-headed. "Might take me a while to get to the extract point."

"What happened?" Samantha queried. In his mind`s eye he could see her pacing the control room of the submarine, her beautiful face marred with worry over his safety. Her soft silky hair swaying gently with her every move.

"Sounds like we were ambushed." He replied, tearing a strip of cloth from his grime streaked shirt, and using it to make a tourniquet for his injured arm. "The damn machines are everywhere and Hans has been killed, Sam"

Another blast took out a nearby pillar, and it crumbled, releasing a dense cloud of dust and smoke.

"Declan? Are you alright?" Samantha asked in alarm. "Answer me"

He reached behind his ears and whipped off the earpiece in irritation. He needed to concentrate on getting out of here alive.

Amid the inferno, he heard a whirring sound. He peered round his hiding place and through the smoke. An autobot plowed through the fog, coming directly at him. It was guided by the transmitter that had been implanted in Declan`s brain when he`d been captured. The auto bot was a rectangular four foot mechanical robot on wheels, with 'eyes' that were top-mounted optical lenses which fed high resolution color video cameras, and its 'arms' - three in number- were mechanical manipulators to which deadly, precise laser powered Mk83`s where attached.

It rolled to a stop in front of him. The optical lenses extended and constricted as the camera`s focused on him. He knew he was being scanned. One of the arms extended and he found himself staring down the nozzle of the gun. He shut his eyes and prayed.

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Chapter One

The Pentagon ( July 4, 2032)

Admiral Tom Sherman, commander of the SSS Nova, pushed open the glass doors of the War Room and strode in. He was a tall, well-built man fifty, with thinning salt and pepper hair, sharply dressed. His deep blue eyes were tinged with an intelligence born of seeing numerous battles and killings. He walked briskly to an empty seat that surrounded the gleaming mahogany table and sat down, nodding curtly to Admiral John Magnus who sat to his right. He glanced around the war room. One entire wall was completely taken up by monitors and LCD displays, showing the locations and status of every ship or vessel that plied the Pacific. In front of these, technicians sat in a row on metal desks which held the input devices and controls. Behind them,ramrod straight, feet braced wide apart, hands crossed behind his back, Henry Cussler, Admiral of the Fleet, watched the screens, a worried frown on his face.

The door opened again and Sherman glanced at it to see Commander Katherine Lazlo, tall, willowy and absolutely beautiful. So beautiful, his breath caught. She was wearing the standard naval uniform, but rather than look shapeless, it molded to her every curve. Pure perfection. She caught him looking and flashed him a flirtatious smile. She came alongside him and saluted. He returned it and gestured that she take a seat next to him.

"Gentlemen and Lady, welcome." Cussler said, without turning from the monitors. "I believe this meeting can now commence." He nodded to one of the techs and she pressed a button on the console.

The walls opposite slid apart silently, and a large screen emerged from the gap. It flicked on and the screen split into four parts. The occupants in the war room suddenly found themselves staring at James Sandecker, the President of the United States, the Chief of Naval Operations- Thomas Hendrickson and the Secretary of Defense- Marian Addison. The fourth screen remained blank.

The occupants in the room stood up sharply and saluted. The President acknowledged the salute with a brief nod and asked them to resume their seats.

The situation must be of utmost importance to require the presence of the President and the secretary of defence. Tom thought as he sat down. A glance at his companions showed that they were thinking the very same thing.

"We do not have much time, so I will be very brief." The President began, his tone grave. " 'Operation Anticraft' has failed and we are getting reports of casualties, both civilian and military. I recieved a very disturbing report at 0018hrs from the CNO, showing satellite photos of the underwater habitat. Gentlemen and Ladies, I do not have to tell you the gravity of this situation if we do not contain this."

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