Sigma Division

Chapter 6

Captain Darrow promptly lifted the radio to his lips. “High ground, you have a red light. I repeat, red light.”

Spicer frowned at that statement. Maybe it was a personal bias from his past employment but he would have given the kill order.

Fry pulled out his head from the window even more to shout. “They won’t get me! I won’t be part of it, you hear me?”

Darrow raised a bullhorn to his mouth.

“We understand, Harland. Why don’t you come down so we can talk about this? Or let my guys bring you a phone, all right? I just want to talk.”

“It’s all gonna be over!” Fry screamed. “Don’t you see? The government is after us! It’s coming! Their day is coming. The shepherd will annihilate us all!”

As he ducked back inside the building, Spicer leaned toward the captain so that he didn’t have to speak so loudly.

“You had a shot, why didn’t you take it?”

“Because on the other side of this building we have a bunch of student housing and we haven’t finished evacuating yet. And this building on the right is the Chemistry Building. If this guy goes boom I wouldn’t wanna be in the area.”

His look of disdain made it plain that he didn’t like having to explain himself to a civilian. He walked away to confer with an officer in SWAT gear. Meanwhile, Ned came closer to Spicer and handed him his phone.

He said, “Higher power on the line.”

Spicer took it and walked a few steps away from the commotion.

“Spicer.”

Dr. Michaels was standing behind his desk, his knuckles digging in the hard glass surface and yet feeling no pain. Houseman was standing in the doorway, coming for some news. The TV was muted but both men were watching the coverage. The phone was in speaker mode.

“They say on TV that they’re about to raid the guy,” Michaels said. “Is that accurate?”

“They’re waiting for the bomb squad first,” Spicer replied.

Houseman nodded, lost in thought. He came closer.

“Do you think there’s any doubt that they won’t capture him alive?”

There was silence on the other end of the line as Spicer processed the comment.

“The question is, do you want him alive?”

Dr. Michaels didn’t miss a beat. “No.”

“Maybe it would serve us to talk to him first. I think this may be the guy who wrote the article in the paper.”

Houseman shook his head. “He’s threatened the integrity of his research. Should he walk out of this building by himself, I would hold you personally responsible.”

The line went dead and Spicer killed the phone. “Un-fucking-real.”

He handed the phone back to Ned.

“Bomb squad’s here.”

They both turned and saw a SWAT team in green tactical gear running with two Bomb Unit technicians. They were in full ballistic armor and looked like aliens. They went the long way around and entered Gilmer Hall.

The SWAT team was leading the way, carbines aimed forward as if a threat was lurking around every corner. They reached the stairway, took a moment to make sure this wasn’t an ambush, and then scurried up the stairs. Time was of the essence.

Once on the second floor, the SWAT leader made a fist and everyone stood fast. They inspected their surroundings but the hallway was empty.

The leader gave the go ahead and they advanced again, single file and pointing their M4 weapons everywhere, until they reached the closed door of a lab.

“Team one in position,” the leader said into his throat mic.

By now, Spicer and his assistant had followed the ranking cop into the bus. Past various officers, there was a row of monitors which displayed images coming from many cameras which had been installed to give an overview of the entire situation.

More important right now were two monitors which themselves were split into four squares. They showed live images coming from minicams which were mounted on the tactical operators. It wasn’t the best resolution but it gave an accurate portrait of the events unfolding.

Darrow was calm. He brought his radio to his mouth.

“High ground, you have a green light. I repeat, green light.”

In spite of his regular serenity, the sniper was now feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He thumbed the safety off and worked on controlling his breathing. The secret to precision shooting was breath control, you had to time your breathing between trigger pulls.

He scanned the window through his scope but the guy wasn’t in sight anymore.

“Negative. I lost the visual,” he said.

The bastard was hiding below the window but the moment he popped out he would blow him away.

In the hallway, the SWAT team was silent. The leader didn’t have to say anything, his men knew the drill. The senior trooper next in him produced a fiber optic camera and he didn’t waste time sliding the small semi-rigid black tube under the door while another kept an eye on the monitor.

“He’s on the far side corner,” he whispered. “On the right.”

The leader nodded and pointed to another man chewing bubble gum nervously. “I breach, you flashbang.” He then turned to the others. “Watch your fire in there. Head shots only.”

Nods and soft grunts told him everyone understood. While they gripped their carbines tighter with the thrill of upcoming combat, he reached up and carefully tried to turn the doorknob. It was locked.

It was to be expected but disappointing nonetheless. He reached for his lock-picking instruments and went to work.

Inside the lab, Fry was sitting on the floor, propped against a cabinet running below the windows. His shirt was soaked with sweat and so was his face. Things had escalated quickly but then again that’s what he’d been hoping for. He had to make a point.

He had to show the world.