Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12 by Dirk Patton Read Free Book Online

“We will prepare some food.”
    I thanked her and headed out into the hall.  Everyone
that was going to be making the trip fell in behind and followed me to the
armory.  We spent a few minutes gathering additional weapons and
ammo.  Igor looked doubtfully at the M4 rifle I handed him, then expertly
broke it down for a quick inspection.
    “Not good as Russian,” he grumbled.
    I ignored his complaining and headed for the small room where
I’d slept.  Dog tagged along, and I quickly gathered my pack and
vest.  Everything loaded, I returned to the cafeteria. 
    Irina and Nicole were carrying steaming plates of microwaved
food out of the kitchen as I walked in and Dog nearly tripped both of them in
his urgency to sniff. 
    “He’s not afraid of me!”
    Nicole had stopped in the middle of the room, holding two
large plates at shoulder level, out of Dog’s reach.  He sat in front of
her, no more than a foot away, eyes glued to the food and nose twitching.
    “He’s a food whore,” I chuckled and told Dog to go lay down.
    He completely ignored me and Nicole finally stepped around
him and put the plates down on my table.  Rachel was the next to arrive,
joining me.  The rest of the team trickled in, and we all devoured the
mostly tasteless, freeze-dried mystery that passed itself off as a meal. 
At least it was hot.
    Fifteen minutes later, the entire group stood in a large
hangar next to three Hummers that Gonzales and Johnson had pulled out. 
The engines were idling, loud in the cavernous space.
    “Orders?  In case you don’t make it back, sir?” 
Johnson asked in a low voice as I tossed my pack in the back of the lead
vehicle.
    “Survive.”
    I was at a loss for anything more insightful than
that.  He nodded and stepped away to say goodbye to Long.
    Rachel, Dog and I climbed into the first Humvee in line
after I had made sure the fuel cans strapped to the rear were full.  Long
and Igor climbed into the second, Lieutenant Sam riding solo in the
third.  I performed a quick radio check to make sure we could communicate
between the vehicles, then shifted into gear and nodded at Johnson.  He
hit a button on the wall, and the pair of massive doors began trundling open,
late afternoon sunshine streaming through the slowly widening gap.
    Rachel waved to Irina, and I drove through as soon as it was
wide enough to accommodate the Hummer, glancing in the mirror to make sure Long
and Sam were staying tight.  Turning north on the almost impossibly long
runway, I swerved to run down a pair of males, then accelerated on the smooth
pavement.
    “Think we can really save this guy?” 
    Rachel squirmed to get comfortable in her seat.  Dog
was stretched across the back seat, panting softly and staring out the side
window.
    “Maybe,” I said.  “But we’ve gotta try.  Without a
pilot, we’re pretty much stuck here.”
    We were quiet for a moment, the tires humming loudly on the
tarmac.
    “That sounded wrong,” I said.  “That’s not why I’m
doing this.  I’d go after him even if he couldn’t fly a plane.”
    “I know that.”
    Rachel smiled and reached over, placing her hand on my
shoulder.  Dog shuffled around and a moment later thrust his head between
the front seats, knocking Rachel’s hand with his muzzle.  She absently
scratched his ears as I drove.  Well, some things hadn’t changed.

9
     
    We followed a well-maintained dirt road that cut through the
desert north of the installation.  Every few miles we would pass a sign
facing southbound traffic that warned drivers they were trespassing on US
Government property and were subject to arrest.  The road followed a track
at the base of a small mountain range and frequently there were electronic
surveillance devices visible on the slope overlooking us.
    “What was Johnson talking about?  Aliens?”  Rachel
asked after half an hour.
    “Seriously?”
    “Yeah.  What?”
    “Area 51?  You’ve never heard of it?”
    I looked at her in