movement, or sound, coming from the area after the soldiers had departed. He did not think there would be, as the size of the force that assembled was most likely all they would need. He decided to wait another hour before they moved in. That would allow enough time for the soldiers to put plenty of distance between them and him.
It was late in the day by the time they reached the perimeter of the valley so it was necessary to start their campaign at once. Their oxygen supply was their biggest concern. Wallace knew his men had to be thinking about this so he decided to put their minds at ease, and create a significant factor of motivation by briefing them. “Once we get inside the valley we can breathe the air. If you look at the sky above it you can see it looks normal, not like out here,” he said as every man did indeed see the difference after he drew his attention to it. “If we stay out here, we die. If we take our objective, we live. Any questions?”
There was none.
“Squad two, get the mortars set up and ready to fire on my signal. Squad one, secure a position on the ridge where you can see into the village, spot for the mortars, and discourage anyone from coming up here. Everyone else be ready with your teams to take our target. Questions?”
Again, there was none. By this time, each man among them could recite their orders verbatim.
“Okay. Move out,” Wallace said.
The men on the rim could not see anyone moving in the valley below, but the village was in sight. After the first few rounds were used to dial in the target, they unleashed a steady barrage firing for effect. The sound of explosions carried throughout the valley. Buildings disappeared as the remnants of them sailed through the air. Small fires were accumulating as a result of the destruction. After fifteen minutes of bombardment, the village was gone, and the explosions ceased.
Sure of foot, and with a precision born from years of training, the assault team made its way down into the valley with their weapons at the ready. The men were sweating in their protective suits and were running high on adrenaline. When they reached the remains of the village, they did not find one body in all of the carnage. Wallace removed his head covering. The air was fresh and clean. It was air he had not breathed in a long, long time.
Some of the other men followed his example, while most, still not fully convinced it was safe, decided to tough it out for as long as they could. “Get a perimeter set up, and search the area. Keep alert. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t like it.”
Bishop was standing outside of the entryway with Moore at his side. The plan was simple. Only a few people operated this part of the facility, and they were mostly scientists. Bishop would take the lead, remove any threats, and Moore would stay close to him while he did so. Moore thought it was a good plan. The door was not locked, as it seemed unnecessary to those on the inside, and Bishop stepped through as if he was expected. To his surprise, they had security waiting just inside the door. It was a member of his former department. He recognized him, but did not recall his name. The man looked at him strangely, recognizing he was not one of the soldiers who left earlier, easily discerned by his clothing, but at the same instant showing a look of recognition. He did not reach for his side arm as he approached them. “Chief, is that you. What are you doing here….out there,” he asked.
“Well,” Bishop said as he took another step closer, “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said just before knocking the man unconscious with a perfectly placed right cross to the man‘s temple. As the man fell, Bishop caught him in his arms and moved him off to the side. He removed his weapon from its holster and the spare clips of ammunition it came with. He realized he had hit the man harder than he intended, and hoped he had not done more damage than necessary.
The building looked like any other warehouse on the inside. There was a wide-open space in its center with offices stretching along each side until they came to the mountain itself. The left side had four doors indicating four offices; the opposite side only had two. They would start with the left. When they came to the first door Bishop opened it, stepped in, and saw that it was empty. It was the same for the next one. Behind the third door, he found a man and women working together at a table. They did not pay any attention to him until he spoke. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stop what you’re doing and come with me.”
“What’s going on here,” the man said indignantly. “Does Mr. Forrest know about this?”
Bishop smiled, walked over to the man, grabbed him with his left hand, and lifted him effortlessly off the ground, several feet into the air. “Mr. Forrest soon will,” Bishop said as his eyes met those of the now frightened man, “You can either do what I tell you or I’ll put you through that wall over there. What’s it gonna be?”
“Okay, Okay. Let me down,” the man said, his eyes going wide with worry.
Bishop did so and motioned for the now compliant pair to walk ahead of them as they went to the last door. When they went inside Bishop found two others. One of them was his father’s former senior aide. He was seated by a radio while typing into a computer. When he turned his attention to the newcomers, the surprise was evident on his face.
“Jim, get up. You touch one thing on that desk and it will be the last thing you ever touch,” Bishop said menacingly while pointing his newly acquired pistol at the man.
“Keith, what in the world is going on,” Forrest asked while showing no inclination to do as he was told.
“Jim, get up. Now,” he said pointing the gun directly in his face.
He did so, and all four of the prisoners were grouped together away from any kind of communications equipment.
“How many more people are in here, and where are they,” Bishop asked.
“Keith, you tell me what this is all about and we’ll go from there,” Jim Forrest offered.
“I’m doing the asking, and I’ll ask once more. After that, things will start to get real unpleasant. How many, and where are they?”
Forrest saw the seriousness of the matter. More importantly, he saw the seriousness in Bishops manner. He was not sure what it was about and could not think of any reason for such hostility. “Besides the security guard, which is where I assume you got the gun there is one maintenance man in the mechanical room on the other side; the door to the left.”
Bishop instructed them to sit on the floor, back to back, and bound their hands with electrical cords. He then secured them about their upper bodies accomplishing little more than simply buying time. It would not be enough to hold them indefinitely. He gave Moore the gun and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear him clearly, “If anyone gets up, shoot them. If any of them move, shoot them. If anyone starts talking to you, shoot them. Any questions?”
“No.”
“Good. If I hear a gun shot, I’ll understand. I’ll be back in a minute.”
The coldness of the conversation was enough to promote cooperative behavior, and Moore did his best to put on a look to add reassurance to Bishop’s last statement. He doubted he could really shoot any of them so he hoped his act was enough. Bishop left the room and walked across the building. He looked to where they had entered and saw the guard still lying on the floor where he had left him. He checked the room to the right first. It was a storage room empty of people. When he went into the door on the left, he ducked his head just in time to keep from being hit with a large wrench. The man was big. Not tall, so much as he was stocky. Bishop was not impressed and he did not have the time to waste. When the man stepped into his next swing, Bishop caught the wrench with his left hand, jarring the man in the process, and grabbed him by his collar with his right. He jerked him off the ground and threw him head over heal. The wind was knocked out of him as he lay groaning on his back. Bishop flipped him over with his foot, and grabbed him by the top of his trouser band carrying him to the center of the facility. He dropped him roughly on the ground and left to bring the others out.
When he had all of them together, including the unconscious security guard, Bishop spoke, “You have two choices. One, you can leave this facility with me, or two, go back inside. Stay where you are if you want to leave, go through that door,” he said pointing to the solid steel door at the end of the facility,” if you want to remain in the mountain. But I’ll tell you this, if you go back in there now, it’ll be a long time before you come out again.”
Still partially stunned at what was taking place, and somewhat fearful of the lunatic standing before them, they all headed for the door leading back inside carrying the unconscious guard with them. Jim Forrest was the last to go.
“I don’t know what you think you are doing here, but when your father finds out…,” he said before being interrupted.
“You tell my father he had better rethink his plans. You might also want to pay attention to something you
