Extinction Edge

-12-

A small crowd of military and civilian personnel gathered at the edge of the tarmac. Beckham nudged his way through the group, stopping when he heard someone calling his name. Throwing the strap of his pack farther over his right shoulder, he twisted to see Fitz. Beckham smiled.

“Hey, Fitz, how are you holding up?”

“I’m great. But I’d be better if you let me join your team. I want to help.”

The weight of Beckham’s bag suddenly felt much heavier. He wasn’t prepared for the request, but when he saw Kate and Riley standing on the sidelines, he knew exactly how to respond.

“We need you here. With so many of us going to New York, the base is going to be vulnerable. Lieutenant Colonel Jensen could use a sharpshooter on one of those towers,” he said, pointing.

Fitz nodded and flung a glance over his shoulder. Grinning, he extended a hand. “Good luck, Beckham.”

“Keep everyone here safe,” Beckham said.

“Will do,” Fitz said with confidence.

Crew chiefs and engineers crowded around the four Black Hawks, making last minute adjustments and checks. A crewman loaded one of the door guns on Echo 3. It was the same bird that had extracted him from Fort Bragg. Beckham knew the threat in New York was greater than any these men had ever faced before. Fear prickled along his spine at the thought of it.

Horn, Jinx, and Chow were camped out past the chopper. Ryan and Timbo, two of the Rangers from Bragg, stood a few feet away. The men performed their final gear and ammo checks. Beckham exhaled slowly as a sense of approval settled into his chest. The new Team Ghost was ready.

“Sup,” Horn said as Beckham approached.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Horn finished looking through the scope of his M27 and then gave Beckham a full once-over. “What the hell, bro? Were you up all night or something?”

Jinx chuckled. “Bet the good doctor was giving him a last minute physical,” he said.

“Watch it,” Horn snorted.

Chow stood glaring a few feet away, his head shaking slowly at Jinx.

“Sorry,” Jinx said. He swung the rifle strap over his shoulder and stuffed another magazine into his overloaded vest.

“You good, Boss?” Horn said in a voice only they could hear. He reached down to pull the skull bandana up around his neck and tightened the knot. Then he put a hand on Beckham’s shoulder.

Beckham nodded and looked him in the eye. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you, Big Horn.”

He exhaled a long breath. “This has to be done,” Horn said. “We need to take back New York.”

A final nod and the two men returned to their preparations.

“Grab all the ammunition you can,” Chow said. “I don’t know if Dr. Lovato is right or not, but if she is, then we’re going to need every round we can carry.”

Beckham had picked up an extra 10mm and strapped it to his leg. “Listen up,” he said. “You guys already know the drill, but I have a few more details.”

Beckham crouched and pulled a map from a pocket in his vest. Spreading it out on the concrete, he pointed toward a solid red blotch covering several blocks in Manhattan, just east of Times Square. “This is where we rendezvous with the mission commander, Lieutenant Gates, and 1^st Platoon. The others are being deployed to the other four boroughs.”

“So once we hit the LZ, we’re pretty much on our own?” Horn asked.

“Afraid so. We’re meeting the Marines here at Pier 86,” Beckham said, pointing at the map. “That’s where the armor is being dropped.” He ran his finger away from the dock. “We follow 1^st Platoon to the main target area, here.”

“Rockefeller Center?” Chow asked.

“Looks like there’s several subway stations in that area,” Horn said.

“The Variants could be using the abandoned tunnels,” Chow said. “Just like we did at Fort Bragg. That one bunch followed us in, remember?”

Timbo leaned over the map, his massive shadow covering the pages. In a gruff voice he said, “So we’re clearing each city block and wiping out the main cluster of Variants and then setting up an FOB?”

“That’s the plan,” Beckham replied.

“What about infected? Is it possible we’ll encounter anyone with the Hemorrhage Virus?” Ryan asked.

“Central has assured us that the virus has burned out in New York. They dropped VariantX9H9 in the area without mercy. Not a single infected has been spotted since then.”

“What’s Dr. Lovato say?” Horn asked.

Beckham stood and crossed his arms. “She said that the chance of infection is highly unlikely. The biggest threat, obviously, is the missing Variant population.” He paused to feel his right eyelid. The swelling was finally down, but it had left an ugly shiner. It was a wonder Kate had even wanted to touch him. He pushed any thoughts of Kate aside, knowing there was no room to relive the memory of last night in his mind during this mission. He had to remain vigilant, focused on Operation Liberty and on keeping his men alive.

“Look,” Beckham said. “I don’t like this anymore than you guys do. Those things could be hiding anywhere. Or, if we’re all really lucky, like win-the-fucking-lottery lucky, maybe Kate is wrong. Either way, we have a job to do. The Air Force is going to soften the area before we move in to clean up the mess. They’ll be on standby if we run into any problems. I’ve been told the flyboys still have plenty of bombs.”

“That’s reassuring,” Horn grunted. He tilted his head, his neck cracking audibly.

“Any other questions?” Beckham asked. He looked at his team in turn. Everyone in the group had seen action. They all knew what came next.

“All right. Once you finish your gear prep, say your goodbyes.” Beckham folded the map and put it back into his vest. He dug inside and pulled out a copy of the picture of his mom. The original picture had been snapped thirty years ago in Rocky Mountain National Park, long before the cancer had reduced her to a skeleton. She stood on a peak overlooking a lush valley with her arms wrapped around Beckham. Her curly black hair blew slightly in the wind and she wore a smile of pure joy.

“She looks so happy,” Horn said. Beckham was so engrossed in the image he hadn’t felt the man’s presence.

“Yup, and look at me. I look annoyed.”

“You were a kid. No one likes their picture taken with their parents at that age.”

“How are the girls doing?” Beckham asked.

Horn shrugged. “They miss their mother and they don’t want me to go.”

“Maybe you should—” Beckham began to say when Horn punched him softly in the shoulder.

“We just went through this, Boss. I’m with you.”

Beckham knew better than to argue with his friend. The man was here, and that was enough for him. “I told Kate and Riley to look after the girls. Fitz is going to keep an extra set of eyes on them, too.”

“Thanks,” Horn said.

Beckham scanned the crowd. Riley sat in his wheelchair, his hands in his lap. The kid wasn’t used to sitting on the sidelines, but this time he had no choice. Kate stood behind him, with Jenny and Tasha at her side. The girls waved when they saw their father looking.

Beckham turned to focus on the men new to his team. Ryan was an entire head shorter than Timbo, with dark olive skin and a large nose and thick Italian accent. The man jammed a magazine into his MK11 and scoped the skyline. Timbo strapped a pair of grenades to his vest and tightened his flak jacket. Unlike the armor the operators wore, the Rangers had ceramic armor. It wasn’t as advanced as the high-density polymer and plastic beneath Beckham’s vest, but it had saved countless lives.

Lastly, Beckham examined both Rangers for signs of anxiety. Not that he would blame them if they were nervous, but he needed to make sure they were good to go. He had been part of joint missions before and typically knew the men under his command. Both Rangers had performed well at Bragg, but New York was going to be much different.

“Fifteen minutes!” shouted a voice across the tarmac. Major Smith and Lieutenant Colonel Jensen walked around the teams, overlooking the last preparations.

“Better say goodbye,” Horn muttered. He jerked his chin toward the crowd, and Beckham followed him away from the birds. Riley, Kate, and the girls watched from behind one of the concrete barriers. Both men hopped over the block and Horn took a knee in front of Tasha and Jenny. Horn yanked his skull mask down and then pulled both girls against his armor, wrapping his arms around them.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” he assured them.

“Promise?” Tasha asked, pulling her head away from his chest.

Horn nodded.

Tasha looked at Beckham and said, “You promise to take care of my dad?”

Beckham put a hand on Horn’s shoulder. “I promise. I owe him one.”

Tasha smiled. “He saved your butt.”

Riley chuckled. “Not the first time!”

Leaving Horn to tend to his children, Beckham walked over to Kate. Her lips moved, but she didn’t speak. They’d already said their goodbyes earlier in the morning. She wrapped her arms around him as best as she could, hindered by the armor and ammunition. “I’ll be okay, Kate,” he said.

“You’d better.”

With Kate pressed up against his chest, he looked over at Riley. “You take care of these girls. You hear me?”

“No problem, Boss,” Riley replied.

“Good luck,” Kate whispered. She pulled away and searched his eyes.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Beckham said, forcing a smile. He waved and then tilted his chin toward the choppers. Horn said his final goodbyes, and then they climbed into Echo 3, leaving their loved ones behind.

The thump of helicopter blades had faded by the time Kate looked away from the clear sky. She’d secretly hoped Beckham would stay behind, that his injuries would have excused him from Operation Liberty, but she knew the man well enough now to know that staying behind had never been an option. The dread in Riley’s face from watching his brothers fly away without him reminded her these men were warriors. They had a job to do. A duty. Asking him to step away from a mission was just like asking her to stay away from the lab.

The endless blue sky stretched as far as she could see, infinite and empty. Somewhere on the other side of the ocean, Kate’s parents might be looking up at the same sky. She felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down into Tasha’s wide, curious eyes.

“Where’s our dad going?” the girl asked.

Kate crouched next to the girls.

“He’s going to help people in New York City. Have you ever seen New York City?”

Jenny buried her head into Kate’s side and cried.

“He’ll be back soon,” Riley said, repositioning his wheelchair so he could face them. “Your daddy and Beckham will take good care of each other.”

Jenny wiggled her head away from Kate to get a better view of the injured man. Riley grinned and said, “Will you girls push me back to my room?” He cupped the back of his head and let out a long sigh. “I’m too tired to do it myself.” He faked a yawn and winked at Kate.

Tasha and Jenny slowly pulled away from her side, examining Riley curiously.

“How old are you guys again?” Riley asked. “I want to make sure you’re old enough for a wheelchair license.”

Kate let out an uncontrolled laugh. Jenny fidgeted nervously, her lips pursed and ready to speak. She held out five fingers instead.

Riley nodded. “Five. Let me consult my mental rule book.” He counted with his right fingers.

The younger girl hunched over, gripping her stomach and giggling. “Come on!”

“You’re good to go,” Riley finally said.

Tasha grabbed the back right handle to his chair and said, “I’m eight, so guess I’m good, too.”

Together, the two girls pushed Riley slowly across the path back to the post. Kate trailed close behind, ensuring the girls didn’t topple his chair. They turned the job of pushing him into a game. Kate smiled, but the sight of the white dome of Building 1 reminded her that their situation was no game. It loomed above as they walked further through the base. Kate studied the architecture as they walked. From the outside it looked clean and pure. But the weapon she’d designed inside made the building nothing more than an ammunition factory. VariantX9H9 killed more people than any other weapon in the history of the world.

She felt nauseated.

“Wait up,” a man called out.

Kate turned to see a soldier running on two metal blades attached just below his knees. “Dr. Lovato, Staff Sergeant Riley,” he said. “Girls.”

“What happened to your legs?” Jenny asked.

Tasha glared at her little sister. “That’s not polite.”

“Sorry,” the younger girl said.

A streak of red crossed the man’s freckled face. He was young, probably in his early twenties, Kate thought.

“I lost them fighting bad guys,” he finally replied.

“Oh,” Jenny said. “They’re really cool.”

The man smiled at that; then his eyes gravitated to Riley and he said, “Beckham and I fought those things together back at Fort Bragg.”

“That’s what I heard. He said you could nail a fly from a quarter mile away.”

“I don’t know about that, but I was the top marksman in my unit, back before…” His voice faded as a gust of wind brushed over the group. A few seconds of awkward silence followed.

The man probably experienced the same silence many times, Kate thought. Her heart hurt for him.

Clearing his throat, he extended a hand. “I’m Joe Fitzpatrick, but you can call me Fitz. Beckham asked me to look after you guys while he’s on the mission. I’ll be on one of the guard towers, but thought I’d introduce myself to y’all.”

Riley reached out and shook the man’s hand vigorously. “Damn good to have you here, Fitz. I’m Riley. And this here is the savior of the world, the woman behind the weapon that destroyed the Hemorrhage Virus.”

“Nice to meet you,” Fitz said. He turned to Kate with an outstretched hand. “Pleasure, ma’am.” He had a Southern accent, a gentleman, by anyone’s standards.

“Not everyone thinks I’m a hero,” Kate said.

Fitz held her gaze. “Not everyone is intelligent.”

Riley laughed. “I like this guy already!”

Wind rustled Kate’s hair. Rain clouds were moving in rapidly from the west. They were heavy and dark, a collage of purple and black.

“Looks like another storm,” she said.

“We better get inside,” Riley said. He craned his neck. “Girls, if you would, please.”

Kate laughed as Tasha and Jenny pushed him forward. They stopped in front of the barracks.

“This is me,” he said.

Fitz stepped forward. “Me too. I’ll take him from here.”

Kate wasn’t surprised to see Riley sink a bit further in his chair. It was obvious the man wasn’t used to people taking care of him, and that he’d only offered for the girls to help to get their mind off their dad. The barracks hadn’t been built with a wheelchair access. There was no ramp or ADA fittings. A state-of-the-art facility that didn’t even adhere to federal access laws, Kate thought.

“I’ll take the girls to dinner around six o’clock tonight, if you’d like to join us,” she said.

Fitz made a slight bow, as if he was tipping a hat. “Would be my pleasure.”

“Count me in,” Riley said, repositioning his chair so his back was to the steps. With narrowed eyes he found Fitz. “Take it easy on these, man.”

The two guards at the top of the ledge stepped down, eager to help. “We got you.”

Riley sank even further into his chair, his eyes locking with Kate. There was despair there he couldn’t hide. She offered a reassuring nod. “See you in a bit.”