Continuing on, we just met Maaka, another of the protagonists in his job as Liaison to Tam Laboratories. Dr. Tam was showing off his invention of the Gravity inductor engine. But all is not well. This post is a tad long, but I felt that breaking it up would reduce the suspense happening in the scene. At least the suspense I hope to portray in the scene.
Chapter 2
“In actual terms of damage and loss, the Third World War was easily the most devastating of any two wars in the history of mankind. Many historians have pointed to the First World War for parallels including the extreme nationalism felt by many countries, the harbored resentment and ancient grudges held by numerous nations, as well as the system of alliances and treaties making nations that would never have found a reason to fight each other, kill each other’s citizens. The main sides incorporated into the war were many. Asian Ultranationalists, Western Separatists for the Americas and Europe, the U.N. and its coalition of vassal countries as well as several others. Ultimately, the incredible financial burdens facing many of the belligerents as well as a looming global energy crisis, allowed the U.N. to strike hard and fast, using both technology developed by internal scientists as well as an intelligent military plan cooperating with cunning diplomacy allowed the U.N. to win the war, and finish uniting the planet.” – A Brief History of the World, Vol. 7
House of the Secretary General, Vienna, Austria, May 16th, 2157
Sergeant Michael Sedgewicke shifted from one foot to the other as he tried to stifle a yawn with his hand. As it abated, he ran the same hand through his short blond hair. He wouldn’t deny that the graveyard shift for security at the Secretary General’s house was an easy job. At least it was easy until you found yourself struggling to stay awake at one in the morning, he thought glumly to himself.
Still there were worse jobs that he could be at, and he had a fairly good deal running here. Stand around, occasionally play cards when he was in the control room, walk around. Real simple stuff. When his shift was over in three hours, he could go back to his bed and drift off into a nice restful sleep. He yawned again this time before he could instinctively raise a hand to cover it. Stop thinking about bed, he thought. You’ll only make yourself more tired.
He looked back towards the house. To call it a house subtracted from the grandeur of the structure. A mansion. That was more appropriate. The building was fairly large, constructed in a standard Carrollian style with Roman influences as well as some more modern styles. It had been traditional for the Secretary-Generals to live here during their term, dating all the way back to Secretary-General Gorchakova. Some government leaders had stated that it was an outdated tradition and that the Secretary General should be located somewhere more reasonable for government business like Beijing or D.C.
Michael didn’t know for sure what the exact reason was that no Secretary-General had moved, but most claimed they were just honoring the memory of Secretary General Gorchakova by remaining there. He certainly wouldn’t complain to live in a house like this even if the commute for work involved a scramjet journey almost every morning and night. The mansion was enormous and more than one person had compared to Windsor Castle in London, but the King’s palace was still about a third larger.
There had to be hundreds of rooms inside the building, and most were being used as offices or bedrooms for guests of the U.N. visiting Vienna. Hundreds of staff kept the building clean and well kept, and Michael knew at least three dozen security guards roamed the perimeter with hundreds of Blue Helms stationed less than ten minutes away at the Kronburger Military Base.
The front law had been perfectly trimmed during the day’s work. The little automated mowers had done a fine job at last. The past few weeks, the small robots had been malfunctioning and leaving a massive patchwork patterns all over the yard. The issue had been causing both the gardeners and mechanics no small amount of headaches trying to fix the issue. Apparently they had solved it earlier today. Michael casually walked among the flower beds, with his hands held stationary behind his back. This section of the lawns was more dimly illuminated than other sections, supposedly not to damage the flowers, but he still had a decent view over the grounds even given the poor lighting.
The mansion was located along the outskirts of Vienna. Surprisingly, the urban growth hadn’t approached and surrounded the structure in the century or so that the mansion had stood rooted on this spot. Michael wondered if there was any particular zoning reason behind the building staying at the outskirts, or if the fact was just nothing more than a sheer coincidence. As Michael walked, he noted that the trees up against the perimeter fence seemed to sway in the springtime air. He looked to the sky to see if he could spy any storm clouds coming in. it was about the right time of the year for a seasonal thunderstorm. The auroras however seemed to cover the entire expanse of the sky, but he couldn’t spy any dark and angry clouds that signaled a coming downpour.
The silence was broken by a sudden voice speaking on his ear-com. The little imbedded chip in his ear could be tuned to any appropriate frequency, and right now the only reception it was to receive was directly from the security control room inside the mansion.
“Sedgewicke, this is control, respond,” the voice said. He recognized the soft feminine voice as being Captain Sophie Dubois, the security chief at the manner. He was surprised it wasn’t one of the controllers talking to him and if the security chief was the one signaling him, he had better respond quickly. He wasted no time in calling back a reply.
“Sedgewicke here, go ahead Control,” he said in a tired voice.
“Yeah, uh we need you to move to uh,” she yelled something unintelligible to someone else in the control room. A brief moment later she responded. “We need you to redeploy to Sector 7 along the outer wall. Let us know if you see anything, or hear anything out of the ordinary while you are moving there as well as respond when you arrive.”
“Roger that control, do we, ah, have a problem?” Michael asked as he picked up his pace, jogging to Sector 7. Sector 7 was another zone of the garden about one hundred meters away on the south side of the building. Splayed out across a large serene pond were several artificial islands in this section of the botanical gardens.
“One second, Sedgewicke.” There was a pause on the other end, and Michael slowed his step just a moment. He didn’t want to walk into a situation without some information to the trouble at hand. “Sedgewicke, perimeter alarm was tripped, but security cameras show nothing in the area. It may have just been a stray animal, but we’d still like confirmation.”
“Roger that control,” Michael said as he arrived at the islands area. He walked over onto one of the small bridges over a small stream. The trickle of lightly flowing water filled the air, as well as the fine scent of lilac blossoms along the streambed. He brought out his MP-HG, holding the small handgun in one hand while he flicked the flashlight on in his other hand. The LED light shone brightly, turning the dark areas of the island area to daylight as the light shone over it. He cautiously moved from island to island, looking behind every bush and all along the fence line. Situations like this had always made him nervous. The security systems were supposed to be very advanced, but if something tripped it and avoided being seen, then there was a problem. Finding nothing, he called back to Control.
“Control, this is Sedgewicke. Area is clear. I’m not seeing anything. Musta been an animal or a light breeze,” he said.
“Confirmed, Sedgewicke. Keep a watch for at least fifteen to guarantee a clear sweep,” Dubois’s voice instructed.
“Got it, Control. Out,” Michael said. He lowered the gun back into its holster but kept the flashlight out as he prowled back over the bridges towards the direction he had come from. While it was irregular for an alarm to be tripped, animals tripping the alarms were not an occurrence without precedent. Technicians promised to fix the system so that it only was activated when a person crossed through, but so far they had not delivered on their promises. As he crossed one of the bridges, a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He spun immediately, bringing the flashlight up to bear in one hand while grasping for his gun in the other. Even as he faced the direction he had seen the movement, he saw nothing but a wind rustling the leaves in the thick trees. As the accompanying sigh of relief left his breath he immediately came to a realization. There was no wind to rustle the leaves. The bushes went silent even as he stepped forward toward the foliage, keeping his gun raised.
He took each step as quietly and cautiously as he could. His finger rested lightly on the trigger and he kept the flashlight aimed high. He stopped a hands breadth away from the tree and paused for a moment, waiting to see if whatever animal was there would reveal itself. Nothing happened. A sudden flicker of movement out of the corner of his vision, and he spun. Even as he turned, he twisted his ankle on the edge of the pavement and collapsed with a yell of pain. The flashlight spiraled through the air, casting bright light all across the grounds and into his face, completely destroying his night vision. The gun clattered against the pavement and skidded across the walk before falling into the water with a defined ‘plunk’. He cursed several times, but stopped when his eyes caught the water. The light from the LED flashlight shone across the face of the pond as large ripples wafted across the water, before colliding with the waves from the splash of his gun. Something had just taken a step through the water. His neck craned up toward the manor, and through his dimmed vision an odd shape, bipedal in nature, was silently bolting for the house.
Without hesitating, he activated his com, and screamed in, “Code 347! Code 347! Intruder on the premises!”
Less than heartbeat later, floodlights shone all around the compound, and the shouts of security filled the air. Michael cursed as one light made direct contact with his still dilated pupils and he cursed as he covered his face with his arm. He reached around for the flashlight, and once he had located it, he turned it off and stuffed it in his pocket. At the same time Michael scrambled forward with his other arm, sifting through the water until his hand grasped around the handle of the gun. The MP-HG was a miracle of technology. Beyond all the different types of shots and ammo it could use, the weapon was virtually indestructible, never jammed, and was completely impervious to water. He shook the gun dry, and glanced back toward the building now that his eyes had adjusted to the bright light. The figure he had seen darting toward the building was nowhere in sight, and concern covered his features. He suddenly realized that Dubois had been roaring in his ear.
“What is it?! What did you see?! Damn it, Sedgewicke, respond!”
He caught his breath and responded as he jogged toward the house. Alright lights inside the building were flaring up, and security personal were out on the law, some jogging towards him. “I didn’t see them completly. Someone was hiding in the vegetation, and they jumped me. They crossed the uh… southern island area, and I saw them heading to the mansion before your firking lights blinded me.”
Men were shouting out on the grounds now, and he saw some had grabbed some of the more potent Baldwin rifles. It seems security was taking any security breach deadly serious. He scanned the grounds, now that he had regained his composure, looking for his assailant. Nothing of note jumped out at him, until he saw it. The door on the third floor balcony the door to the Secretary-General’s room, hung on its hinges, wide open. The lights on the room remained off. They’re inside.
“They’re inside! Breach on south side! Third floor balcony!” he yelled into his microphone.
“Damn it! Personnel to Perrone’s room! Get the Sec-Gen to the bunker!” Dubois shouted.
Michael breathlessly charged inside the building, throwing the door open with a gesture. He slammed a flechette clip in the gun and flicked the safety off Perfect for indoor combat, flechette shells were the next stage evolution of the shotgun shell. Instead of firing little barrages of shot, flechette rounds fired a package of tiny barbed spikes. The barbs didn’t leave as much internal damage as a shotgun shell, but they would shred anything they hit, causing massive blood loss on the target.
“Proximity alarm tripped, third floor library!” a nameless Control agent shouted into the channel.
“Sanderson, Locke, Taylor, Wells, get the Sec-Gen to the bunker! Brown, Jordon, Vinge, cover the grounds!” Dubois continued shouting orders to all the security personnel directing them inside the building and getting the officers to take up stations. She then directed Michael directly to the library up on the third floor. He coolly ran up the stairs, not even breaking a sweat as he hit the top floor.
Even as he reached the library he noted the door hanging open. Another two security personnel joined him, one holding another handgun up towards the door, while the other cradled a Baldwin rifle in his hands, thumbing the trigger. Michael didn’t pay attention to who they were before he started towards the room. He counted down from three to zero with his fingers, and then charged into the room, flashlight and gun raised, not even checking to see if the other two had followed. Beyond all the furnishings, the room lay vacant. He fumbled for the light switch on the wall and when he hit the button, the room was immediately flooded in illumination. Michael immediately saw one of the windows hanging open to the outside.
“Control, intruder exited through the West Library window,” Michael reported in.
“Copy that, Sedgewicke,” Dubois responded.
Another voice came on. “Control, package has been delivered to the bunker. We’re holding down inside. Door is locked.”
Michael let out a sigh of relief. Antonio Perrone, the Secretary General was safe in the bunker below the mansion. There was an emergency elevator in his room that led straight to the bunker and the facility was at least fifty feet underground with ad was being held shut with incredibly powerful electromagnet locks.
“Did he see anything” Dubois asked. “They went right through his room.”
“Uh, negative control. Papa Dog wasn’t aware anything was wrong until we grabbed him. He was just getting up to see what all the fuss was about,” the voice responded.
Michael looked out the window, along the sides of the building. Nothing. Not a sign of anything unusual. His brow curled in frustration and he slammed the window shut, locking it. He and the other two security guards moved out of the library and turned the light off before shutting the door. The moment the door hit shut, another voice, one of the controllers spoke on the frequency.
“Ah, Sanderson, did you guys just mess with the cameras?” the voice asked.
Sanderson was the one who had responded from inside the bunker. He responded a second later. “Negative, Control. Why?”
“We’re getting some static of… wait… camera feed is down!” the controller yelped.
“Get them back up!” Dubois’ voice chimed in.
“I can’t. Hard line is cut!” Michael frowned. While wireless technology had taken over the electronics of the world, cabled technology still was valuable for secured objects. A jammer could kill any wireless signal, but a hard line had to actually be severed in most cases to bring the machine out of commission.
“Sedgewicke, get some guys down there, now! Sanderson, let me know what’s happening!” Dubois’s voice came in as frenzied as the security commander seemed almost on the verge of panic.
Michael raced for the closest access to the bunker. There were several access points, both elevators and standard staircases, throughout the building, stationed for evacuation no matter where you were in the house. The elevator in the Secretary-General’s bedroom was locked down now that Sanderson and the others had used it. The next closest evacuation point was another elevator just down the hall in Perrone’s study.
Sanderson’s voice came on a moment later and fear laced his voice. “They’re outside! Someone is tapping on the door. I think they’re trying to get in!”
Michael found the elevator and waited only for the two others to get inside before he slammed the button that would bring them to the bunker. The elevator roared down at an incredibly high speed, before hitting the bottom, jerking to a powerful stop. In the event of an emergency, the first thing to go is comfort, Michael thought as the door sprung open.
They all stormed out into the hallway, weapons raised as they spun to face the bunker door. The hallway was abandoned with nothing but doorways to other evacuation points at the large metal vault door at the end. Nothing moved in the corridor. The camera at the corner, facing directly towards the vault kept its eternal vigil up, while its connection cord hanging limply to the side. An evacuation door to the surface to Michael’s left was held ajar. He cursed. Not less than thirty seconds had elapsed between Sanderson’s frantic cries of the intruder trying to break in and his arrival and they had missed the intruder anyway.
“Control, area is clear, intruder gone back up. Access staircase to uh,” he struggled as he remembered. The doors weren’t labeled down here. It came to him.
“Access staircase 247, to the atrium!” He shouted the last bit as he threw the door open and charged up the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached the top. There the door was also held ajar.
“C’mon control. This guy only cut one camera! Who are we dealing with?” he breathless asked as he scanned around the open central court of the building’s atrium.
Wide windows covered the high ceiling and small well trimmed bushes and topiaries covered the ground. The lights had at least been turned on in this area, and Michael knew there were at least four security cameras watching the area. They had to see something!
Dubois came on the channel, but her voice was ragged and she didn’t speak for a few moments, as if choosing her words carefully. “We don’t know. Cameras aren’t getting anything decent. Thermal, starlight, standard, nothing more than shapes moving. They know where every camera as and they keep maneuvering perfectly to avoid giving us anything beyond a flicker of a figure. We can’t even follow them through the house.”
The hackles on the back of Michael’s neck rose as she spoke, and he spun to see another almost familiar flicker of movement down a hall. He knew that hall was fairly long, but it was U in shape, and the other end would come right out into the atrium. He gestured for the other two security guards to wait at the outlet for the hallway, and without double checking to see if they were following his orders, he raced down the hallway.
His footsteps collided hard with the ground, echoing off the walls all around him as he raced around the corner. Even as he turned, he saw that one of the windows was hanging open, and he mentally cursed but even as the profanity entered his mind, he stopped dead in his tracks. The glimpse he caught was brief, but it frozen him in his place. The curtains rustled as the intruder stepped through, but Michael caught his first clear glimpse of the intruder, or at least part of the intruder. A lean and narrow leg ending in a multi-suckered foot like an organic suction cup. It had three toes splayed out 120 degrees from each other, and the skin was scaly like a lizard with a dark green color on all of it. The glimpse lasted less than a second and then the invader was gone.
It took Michael several moments to catch his breath but he finally forced his body to move forward. He cautiously planted one foot in front of the other until he reached the window and summoning all his reserves of strength, he peeled the curtain open, looking back over the southern island area of the property. He caught a glimpse of a form disappearing behind the fence along the perimeter, and with that, it was gone.
Questions
1. Was is suspenseful? Did it flow quickly or slowly?
2. Did it feel logical and thought out? or did the character do things you didn't think they would?
3. Any other impressions, types seen, etc.
