Genomorph

Chapter 58

CHAPTER 58

MONDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2005
2100 EST/1800 PST

The dust cloud generated by the approaching semi was visible for several minutes before the truck reached the gate to the compound in the Nevada desert. There were men clad in desert pattern BDUs massing within the perimeter, and as the driver lowered his window, one stepped out of the gatehouse, his weapon trained on the cab.

“Step down from the vehicle and bring your manifest,” he said.

The driver did as he was ordered, running his hand nervously through his thick mop of red hair as he handed his clipboard to the guard.

“You boys sho are a might touchy tonight,” he drawled. He looked around at the armed men who were obviously preparing to move out.

“Just a routine drill,” the guard said. He was fairly annoyed that he was not going to be part of the ambush of the incoming Navy SEALs. They knew their landing zone and their ETA; it would be a massacre.

“What’s in the trailer?”

“The usual Monday load’a food an’ such,” the driver said. “Looks like you boys get ta eat good for another week.”

“Yeah, right,” the guard said as he scanned the trucker’s manifest and compared it to the one he had. As he read off the contents – prime rib, steaks, fresh vegetables and other assorted treats – he swore silently. He would never taste any of it; the people inside got the good food while the troops up top were stuck with MREs.

“All right, open her up, and let’s have a look,” the guard said. If he had been one of the regular gate guards, he might have noticed that this was not the usual driver, but the regular security personnel were all deep within the lab. All he cared about was that the paperwork was in order.

The driver walked around to the back of the trailer, popping the seal and handing it to the guard. He compared the number on the seal to that on the manifest, nodding when they matched, and motioned for the driver to open the doors.

A blast of cold air swept across the two men as the doors opened, revealing heavy duty cardboard boxes stacked floor to ceiling in the refrigerated trailer. The guard’s mouth began watering as he saw the cases marked ‘steak: rib eye’.

Climbing up into the trailer, the guard pulled a few boxes down and set them aside, revealing more stacked behind them. He opened up the cases he had pulled down and gazed hungrily at the frozen steaks. Satisfied and frustrated at the same time, he jumped down from the trailer and had the driver seal it.

A second guard came out of the gatehouse with a mirror for inspecting the undercarriage, and for the next twenty minutes they examined the truck thoroughly for hidden explosives or anything out of the ordinary.

“All right, you can drop this one at the dock and pick up the empty,” the guard told the driver as he returned the manifest to him. The big trucker climbed back into the cab and, once the gate was opened, drove forward. He followed a road along the perimeter that took him around the hangar and to the rear of the main building. There was a loading dock there, and the driver expertly backed the trailer into it next to the empty trailer from the previous week’s delivery.

He climbed out of the cab, and with practiced speed, he uncoupled the trailer, then pulled the tractor forward and maneuvered it back to the empty. Once he had reconnected the lines, he walked over to the trailer he had just dropped and hooked a power line from the building into the refrigeration unit; one thing the facility was sorely lacking was adequate space for cold storage, and the trailers were used as large walk-in freezers. As the driver headed back to the cab, he passed behind the trailer and stopped just long enough to unlatch the doors, and then returned to the cab and climbed in.

The truck stopped once more at the gate, and the guards made a quick check to insure the trailer was empty, and then waved the driver on his way. Arnie Belcher grinned as the compound grew smaller in his rear view mirror. He guessed the mercenaries had never heard of the Trojan Horse. He was still grinning an hour later when he reached the highway, and he turned and headed towards the canyon where they had left the real delivery driver tied up in the back of Arnie’s truck.

“That boy’s prolly plenty mad now.” Arnie chuckled. Arnie would keep the Air Force driver company until he got word that the operation was over, and then send him on his way and head back to Alabama. Brandi wanted to minimize his exposure as much as possible, which suited Arnie just fine.

Undoubtedly the driver would report the incident to his superiors. If all went well, it wouldn’t matter; the Pentagon would take care of the situation. If all didn’t go well – then it really wouldn’t matter. The Joint Chiefs and the Vice President were no longer in danger from the signal, but with an unknown number of sleepers still at large, some no doubt high ranking military officers, if the signal was sent the nation could well be in the midst of a civil war in a matter of hours.

Back inside the compound, hidden in the trailer in a void behind the stacks of boxes, Matt, Ryan and ten SEALs waited for the mercenaries to move out.

*****

“Make sure you pull the trucks back to the east once you deploy, Baxter,” Evan Mitchell told the commander of the ambush unit. Fifty of the security force were clambering into the backs of two five ton trucks for the journey to the landing zone of the SEALs.

Susan had told them that the SEALs were scheduled to insert around eleven that night. The drop zone was twenty miles away, making it a good five hour hike through the rugged terrain. That would place the SEAL platoon in position to strike in the early morning hours, when the men who had been on duty through the night would be the most tired and the rest would be soundly asleep.

“The SEALs are coming in from the west, and if they see those trucks, they’ll know the LZ is compromised,” Mitchell continued. “You give them that, and they’ll tear you to pieces.”

“I know all that, Mitch,” Baxter said. “Those swabbies are worms on a hook. We’ll take ‘em, no problem.”

Mitchell nodded; he did not expect the SEALs to survive the ambush, but he was certain they would inflict heavy casualties on the mercenaries before they went down. That was one reason Mitchell was not leading the ambush personally, the other being he had no intention of missing the girl’s arrival. He wanted to see her face when she learned her little plan had been ripped to shreds.

One mile from the compound, Petty Officer Lewis watched through the scope of his M-107 sniper rifle. He did not even need his night vision scope; the compound was lit up like the Vegas strip.

Lewis watched as the security chief, Mitchell, talked to the officer in charge of the ambush unit. Half a mile away on another ridge, Kevin Darrow also had the pair in his sights. With just a slight pressure on their triggers, they could eliminate the two men in seconds, but that was not part of the plan. They needed everything in place before they made their move.

It took nearly an hour for the trucks to get loaded; the men were in no particular hurry and not very well disciplined. Once the last mercenary was on board, they moved out of the compound. Lewis watched them until they were out of sight and then returned his attention to the compound. The remaining troops were in their positions around the perimeter, scanning the desert.

A little less than an hour later, the trucks came to a stop and the mercenaries unloaded. Though only twenty miles from the compound, there were no roads to the LZ and the trucks had to drive around several large ridges. They would walk the remaining mile to the ambush site, which would still put them in position more than two hours before the SEALs were set to arrive. Baxter left two men with the trucks, and the rest of the unit disappeared into the night.

Chief Wright and Enrique Vasquez gave them thirty minutes to be sure they were far away from the trucks. Then they crept forward in the darkness like two shadows. Once they had good positions, they each raised a silenced Mk23 pistol and sent a pair of forty five caliber slugs into the brains of the two guards.

Chief Wright turned towards the area they had approached from and gave a hand signal, and a Humvee emerged from the darkness. As the vehicle pulled to a halt, Wright walked to the driver’s side window.

“You’re up, sweetheart,” he said to the pretty blonde. “You watch yourself now.”

The blonde started giggling.

“Watch myself,” she said. “That’s really funny.”

Wright smiled as the Hummer pulled away, and then turned to Vasquez.

“The trucks aren’t going anywhere, Chief,” Vasquez told him. “If they’re dumb enough to try to start them, they’re gonna get a nasty surprise too.”

“Outstanding,” Wright said. “Get our ride; we need to get into position before she gets there.”

*****

2400 EST/21:00 PST

Deep beneath the desert, ‘Melissa’ rose from the bed. As she did, her jeans, t-shirt and sneakers shimmered, and began shifting about her, even as her body itself changed. In seconds, Brandi had reverted to her true form, her biomorphic armor covering her from the neck down. She went to the door and grasped the handle, bypassing the lock and the alarm.

The guard outside the door barely had time for the shock to register on his face as she grabbed his head with both hands. His eyes glazed over as she overrode his central nervous system, rendering him unconscious almost instantly. She dragged him back into the room and was out the door before his unconscious body had crumpled to the floor.

In the security center, the two guards on duty noticed nothing amiss. The camera monitoring the dark haired girl showed she was still asleep on the bed in her room, and the one in the hall showed the bored guard at his station. Brandi figured she had about fifteen minutes before the cameras would stop looping, but that was all the time she needed.

Brandi’s real plan had never involved letting her enemies get any closer to Melissa than necessary, and it had been Susan’s words when she was explaining what she knew of the bonding process that had triggered the information she needed.

“… Melissa’s genetic code is being rewritten to match yours,” Susan had told them. “The nano-cyborgs cannot do it quickly though. It will take days, possibly even weeks for them to complete the process, as long as you don’t introduce more into her system.”

Brandi had known then that she could accelerate the process, and she could do it not only by introducing more of the nano-cyborgs, but also by channeling her energy as she had when she healed Melissa; the same energy which had been used to transform her. That night, as she and Melissa had lain entwined in Zen sleep, Melissa had gone through a rapid change, and in the morning she was Brandi’s twin, at least to the eye. She was not a Genomorph, but she was far from an ordinary human being too.

The main purpose was to sow confusion; the enemy’s attention was focused on the surface where they thought the Genomorph was, totally unaware that the predator was stalking the inside of the lab. However, there was an added benefit they had learned upon awakening that morning; as a result of their ‘consummation’ of the bonding, the empathetic link between them was much stronger. It was still not true telepathy, but Brandi knew that everything on the surface was going according to plan.

Brandi’s job was threefold; cut off communications between the surface and the lab, disable the uplink to slow down the sending of the signal, and secure the data in the computer files. She could knock out those objectives without even leaving the uppermost level of the complex. Avoiding the roving security patrols, she made her way through the maze of corridors until she reached the section housing the offices of the senior research scientists. She knew exactly which office she needed.

*****

On the surface at the loading dock behind the main building, the doors of the trailer opened slowly until there was a tiny gap between them. A small fiber optic cable snaked through the opening, twisting left and right as it scanned the loading dock.

“It looks clear,” Matt Branch said as he studied the LCD screen in his hands. He withdrew the cable, and then pushed the door open enough for him to slip out. He moved quickly across the dock and took a position behind a large crate. He scanned the area and then motioned towards the truck. One by one, the SEALs slipped out and took up positions around the loading dock. The last person out of the truck was Ryan Sanders, who looked terribly uncomfortable in the Interceptor body armor he wore. He joined Matt behind the crate and dropped to his knees.

“This stuff is damned uncomfortable,” he grumbled.

“You’re lucky,” Matt said. “It’s ten pounds lighter than the old armor. How long to get the door open?”

“However long it takes,” Ryan said. “If I slip up once, it will trigger the alarm, and the whole place will lock down.”

“Get started then, but for God’s sake, keep low,” Branch said.

Ryan nodded and moved to the door leading into the building. He took a small power screwdriver from a pocket on his vest and quickly removed the panel for the card reader next to the door. Once the wiring was exposed, he clipped leads to several of the lines and then stretched the wires back to the crate where Matt was positioned. He took his laptop from the case slung over his right shoulder and opened it up. Once the computer had booted up and he had the proper program started, he attached the leads from the panel to it.

“Oh boy, this is not going to be easy,” Ryan said as he looked at the screen.

“We have a saying in the SEALs, Mr. Sanders,” Branch whispered. “The only easy day was yesterday.”

*****

“Well, I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Susan said as she entered the office that had once been hers.

Barbara Currant looked up from her desk and smiled, “Yes, it was a little bare when I arrived.”

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” Susan snapped. “I intend to resume my duties.”

“I hope you can,” Barbara said. “You did remarkable work here, work that should have benefited a lot of people. It’s a shame it was suppressed.”

“It was suppressed for a good reason,” Susan said, eyeing Barbara suspiciously. “The breakthroughs I made are a potential source of great power for someone who knows how to wield it.”

Barbara shook her head sadly. “You don’t really believe that, not deep within yourself.”

“I was a fool, I see that now,” Susan said.

“I see,” Barbara said. “Tell me, Susan, have you ever seen one of these?”

Barbara raised one of the purple crystal pendants from her desk and activated it. Susan’s eyes dilated as they were dazzled by the brilliant purple flash, and she stared blankly ahead.

“Sit down on the couch,” Barbara ordered, and Susan complied without hesitation.

Opening a drawer, Barbara took an optical programmer from her desk and walked over to sit next to Susan. She knew the initial programming had been implanted in Susan many months before, and that had since been altered by Ryan and then again when Susan called in after she was activated. Without one of the scanner devices, trying to alter the programming again was very risky, but there was a much simpler alternative. Barbara had been able to locate the data for Susan’s original personality matrix, and the device was programmed to, in effect, reinstall that. Placing the device over Susan’s eyes, she activated it, and it began restoring her predecessor.

“Just relax, Susan,” Barbara said, knowing Susan really had no choice. “In a few minutes, you’ll be yourself again.”

The door to the office opened, and Barbara looked up to see Brandi, whose face clouded with fury as she saw Susan there with the device over her eyes.

“Get away from her!”

“Brandi wait!” Barbara cried, rising from the couch.

Brandi moved with startling speed, her hands flying up to grasp Barbara’s face. But as soon as she made contact, she recoiled, a look of confusion crossing her face. When she touched Barbara, she received a strong sensation that she was not a threat. There could only be one reason she would get that feeling.

“You’re Amanda’s contact,” Brandi said.

Barbara sighed in relief. “Yes, I am. She and I, well, we have known each other for some time.”

As Brandi studied the woman before her, she was struck by the same feeling she had experienced when she met Melissa – that she had met her before. But again like Melissa, her memory held no image that corresponded to this woman. She shook off the feeling and turned to Susan.

“I’m removing the programming,” Barbara explained. “She’ll be back to her old self in about thirty minutes.”

Brandi nodded. “Thank you. Now I need to use your computer to access the mainframe.”

“Be my guest,” Barbara said. “If you hope to disable the signal, I don’t have the access codes for that. Even if I did, the signal can still be sent manually; it will just take more time to align the dish.”

“I am the access code,” Brandi said. “And a delay is all I need. My friends will take care of the rest.”

Barbara watched in fascination as Brandi sat down at the desk and placed her hands on the computer’s keyboard. Her fingers did not move, but her eyes appeared to lose focus as she established a connection with the computer and, through it, to the entire network within the lab.

For a brief instant, Brandi was stunned as a tremendous amount of data flooded her mind. She had interfaced with their home network many times since she had discovered the ability, but the lab’s network was far larger. She was quickly able to adjust to the incoming information though, as her brain operated far faster than the computer.

Her first task was to lock out all the command codes, effectively giving her exclusive access to the higher functions of the computer system. Any activity requiring security clearance was rendered inaccessible, which included the computer link to program and align the satellite dish. She also inserted a new code that Ryan and the SEALs could use to enter the lab once she had secured the freight elevator. She added in a few little personal touches; when certain people tried to use their codes, they would get a little greeting. She wanted them to know that they had messed with the wrong blonde.

Once that was taken care of, she locked out the communications lines with the surface and secured all the elevators. Until she released them, no one was taking the easy way out of the lab. Next, she secured the doors to the stairwell, cutting off that escape route as well. Finally, she secured the file room and the server farm, so that no one could physically destroy any data.

There was no way to unlock the exterior doors of the main building above; they were on an independent system which was why Ryan had been brought along. She could only hope he could get the team inside before they were detected; even with the mercenaries in the ambush unit effectively out of the fight, the SEALs were still outnumbered more than four to one by the mercenaries on the surface. They had to get into the building; its reinforced concrete walls would provide them a stronghold from which they could hold off the security force.

With the complex secured, she took a moment to look around. Actually, it was less than thirty seconds; she was directly linked to the network and could access any portion of it almost instantly. She could have done it even faster, but her mind was limited by the speed of the system.

The first thing she noted was that, by and large, the data was the same as what Karen and the CTAG people had gotten access to, so she went deeper. She knew how these people thought, how they operated. There would be files that were not accessible remotely, and they would tell her what she really wanted to know.

She was not looking for evidence, not trying to build a criminal case. Even with the proverbial smoking gun, she knew the people behind this would never be prosecuted; it would be far too scandalous. That suited Brandi just fine; a lengthy trial would inevitably lead to her being exposed. All that mattered was that they were dealt with, and she would see to that one way or another.

She found the file easily enough, the file named Genomorph. From it, she learned that the organization had learned of the Genomorph Protocol twenty years earlier, and since that time had focused a significant portion of their resources on locating a functioning GMU. The file confirmed what they had suspected; that Brandon had been identified as having the desired genetic sequences for the Genomorph Protocol, long before Susan had pushed to have the machine used to help him. In fact, he had been singled out when he entered the Naval Academy. They had identified his warrior genes after genetic tests were run using blood samples taken for his pre-entry physical.

Then she read a document that chilled her to her very soul.

Midshipman Anderson has expressed a desire to enter the submarine service upon graduation. This career choice does not fit within our plans for him, and steps should be taken to ensure he chooses a different path. Information from his psychological profile indicates that a tragedy, specifically the loss of his parents in a violent crime, could push him in the direction of special operations. He would be an excellent candidate for SEAL training, and would excel in this career, just as he would likely excel in any career he chose. However, as a SEAL he would be in a position where he can be placed in high risk situations in order to evaluate his inherent combat abilities. Should another functioning Genetic Modification Unit with the modifications necessary to create a Genomorph be located, steps can be taken to proceed with the transformation.

“Another functioning GMU?” Brandi muttered. She continued processing the data as she searched through the files for any indication that they had another device.

ADDENDUM

The operation to eliminate Brandon Anderson’s parents was successful, and the agent involved was not compromised. Agent Evan Mitchell did an outstanding job carrying out the task. Neighbors were programmed to provide information identifying two known area drug users as the assailants, and the two scapegoats were also programmed to believe they had carried out the assault. They were subsequently arrested and have been charged with capital murder.

Brandi almost lost the link as she felt waves of rage and grief wash over her simultaneously. Four lives destroyed; her parents the night they were murdered and then the two young men who had been convicted and executed for the crime, all to maneuver her…maneuver Brandon into the SEALs. Tears threatened to form in her eyes, but she fought them back; now was not the time. She would mourn her parents anew later. She forced herself to continue her investigation, her fury growing all the while.

There was much more information, tracking Brandon’s career and performance. He had been watched, and manipulated, for his entire adult life and never even knew it. And then the machine was located in Iraq. They had the means to create a Genomorph; all they needed was a candidate.

Intelligence has revealed the existence of a functioning GMU with the Genomorph Protocol installed in Iraq, not far from Baghdad. This fits in perfectly with our plans, as Lt. Commander Anderson’s SEAL platoon is currently deployed in that region as part of the search for WMDs. An operation is being prepared to secure the GMU and any other artifacts at the site and Lt. Commander Anderson’s platoon will be tasked with the mission.

Given the subject’s nature, his commitment to the well being of those under his command and his established history of going to extreme lengths to complete a mission, it is likely that if presented with a situation which places his men and the mission at great risk, he will act to preserve the lives of his men, even at the cost of his own. As the GMU is capable of reviving a deceased subject as long as seventy-two hours after death, and even longer if the body is cryogenically preserved, and as a deceased subject is revived with only the programming introduced by the GMU and retains no identity or memory of the past, it is believed that this outcome should be encouraged. The Director has ordered that intelligence regarding the special security forces monitoring the compound will be compartmentalized and withheld from those connected with the planning and execution of the mission. Once the subject is deceased, retrieval forces stationed nearby will move in to recover the body and place it in cryogenic storage until the GMU can be made operational.

ADDENDUM

Lt. Commander Anderson was not killed as had been hoped, due to unforeseen circumstances. An SAR mission that had just completed an unsuccessful search for a downed aircrew was returning to base when the SEAL platoon sent out their request for air support. The escorting gunships drove off the remaining Iraqis, and the rescue helicopter was able to transport Anderson to a field hospital where he was stabilized. His wounds are extremely severe, but he is expected to survive.

It is recommended that we now proceed through Dr. Susan Covington. She has expressed a degree of guilt over the injuries Anderson received, and has already spoken of the possibility that the GMU could be used to repair the damage. This possibility should be encouraged during the initial study and evaluation of the recovered GMU. Existence of the original unit should be kept secret, especially from Dr. Covington.

Reginald Mercer, Director of Operations

As she withdrew from the computer system Brandi shuddered; they had wanted Brandon dead. They had wanted an empty, lifeless shell that they could turn into a robot. They had wanted a killing machine. From what she read, she would have awakened with all of her current abilities and the impressionable mind of a child, ready for them to shape to their will. Even the warrior genes that made her resistant to control could likely have been defeated with proper indoctrination.

“Be careful what you wish for,” she whispered. She touched the keyboard again and, once linked to the computer, she reactivated Evan Marshall’s command code. She knew that he was on the surface now, waiting for her to arrive. Once the shooting started, he would undoubtedly seek shelter in the lab, which was exactly where she wanted him. His code would work only one time, and only to allow him back into the lab. She also disabled the code she had inserted to allow the SEALs access to the lab. Once Mitchell was inside, he was hers and hers alone.

“Are you all right?”

Brandi turned and looked at Barbara, her face devoid of any emotion. Even though Barbara had never met Brandi before this night, she was startled by the utter lack of feeling in her eyes. She was very different from the girl who had entered the office a short time ago; different and frightening.

“There are files here that suggest another GMU exists,” Brandi said. “Do you know anything about it?”

Barbara hesitated, but realized that Brandi would know if she did not answer honestly.

“Yes, another unit was discovered, over ten years before the one in Iraq,” she said. “It was not capable of creating a Genomorph however.”

“Why not?”

“The GMU that transformed you has additional components,” Barbara explained. “They make up the Genomorph Module, and that is what controls the protocol for creating a Genomorph.”

“And where is this other unit now?”

“I have no idea,” Barbara said. “It was set up at one time in the same chamber the current unit is in; it’s the only place large enough besides the vault, and that is packed full of artifacts. The original GMU was moved to storage before Susan joined the project, but it’s not there now, and I was unable to find any record of what was done with it.”

Barbara was holding something back; Brandi could tell that, even without any of her enhanced senses. She did sense that Barbara was on her side though, and that there was no attempt to mislead her regarding their current situation.

~ I got the same feeling from Amanda. They know something they aren’t telling me - something about me. ~

“We’ll have to deal with that later,” Brandi said aloud. “When I leave this room, you’ll be locked in; I’ve secured all the offices and quarters. I don’t need any geeks wandering around getting in the line of fire.”

Brandi walked to the door, pausing as she reached it and turning to look back at Susan.

“When she comes out of it, tell her … tell her I’ll see her soon.”

Barbara nodded. There was a cold fury burning in Brandi’s eyes, and Barbara was very glad she was one of the good guys. She stepped quickly to her desk and opened the center drawer.

“Brandi, wait, take this,” she said as she pulled a small automatic pistol out.

Brandi smiled – a cold, hard smile – and shook her head. “You may need it more than me. I am the weapon, remember?”