Chapter 14- Extreme Measures

Chapter 14

Extreme Measures

Satcom, Somewhere in Virginia

General Petersen looked out from behind his desk out the window at the bay of screens that made up the “big board.”  It was generally considered to be a bit unprofessional to refer to it as “the big board” but Petersen did not care at this point.

His desk was a large black oak desk and it was a work of beauty.  It had been hand crafted in Zurich, Switzerland and had cost around nine thousand dollars.  Uncle Sam hadnt been billed for it, Tom Peteresen had paid for this sucker himself.

It wasn’t a cluttered desk, it was largely empty.  There was a jar for pens and pencils, specially made.  There was also a framed photo of the Petersen brood, including Mrs Petersen herself.  General Petersen grimaced when he looked at the picture and remembered the last time they had spoken, the bitter words that he had absorbed.

There was also a small wooden block with the flags of America and Virginia flying from it.  They were small flags, the kind that a small soldier might carry into battle.  Petersen had carried his company pennant at West Point what seemed like a million years ago, before Vietnam, before he had a desk.

General Petersen hated the intercom so it was inside a draw in his desk.  He could still hear the infernal machine buzzing him out.
“What is it Molly?” he growled into the draw.

“General, you asked to be told when the package was all up and ready to go?” she said, her voice was friendly, it wasn’t timid.

“Good, thank you Lieutenant.  I’ll be out in a minute,” he closed the draw again and got to his feet. The familiar pains shot down his back and into his knees.  He pulled his jacket straight and put on his old cap.

The door opened suddenly and a nearby non-com jumped.  General Petersen swung out of the door like an old west gunslinger, his walk full of machismo, even at his age.  “Attention everyone,” barked the General.  He stood straight, despite the pain it gave him.

A few officers were still giving orders down the radios.  Colonel Sickles looked over at them with an evil eye.

“Attention!” yelled the General, putting the emphasis on the “shun”.  The officers snapped to.  “Ok I want a proper report here.  How are we fixed?”

“Everything is up and online, just like you asked.  There are two squadrons of F22 Raptor’s standing on station, call sign’s are Red Eagle and White Eagle.  There’s a Specter Gun Ship already en-route, call sign Giant-Killer.” Said Colonel Chris Cole.  He was the ranking officer in the room when the General wasn’t around

“Good,” Said Petersen.  He was a big fan of the ole “Spooky.”

“The Marine Extraction force is all set too.  They policed up a full regimental combat team.  Colonel Det Schweizer is in command,”

Petersen sneered. He didn’t like the sound of the guy already.  “Ok, the brief is that we have a possible severe exposure to a code black bio-weapon.  Our orders are to get into this, to seal it the fuck down and get our guys out if we can.  If we cant, we have to put containment above everything else,” The words echoed around the cramped room.  Some of the younger faces gaped up at him.  It was just like Nam all over again that regard.  The young officers stayed the same.

“Containment is our number one priority here.  Nothing else matters in comparison,” Said General Petersen.  He looked over at Colonel Cole, the veteran officer nodded and began to put the men into action.  Petersen then looked over at Colonel Sickles, too young to be a full colonel. Sickles nodded up at the General.  Petersen felt the pain his knees but let nothing show.

Villa Cyranno, Venezuela

Lt Chung heard the loud report of the grenade and spun around.  Newman, carrying a P90 sub-machine gun, had dropped prone and for a moment, Chung had wondered who had overreacted and who was going to get killed.

Marcus Chung had never been under fire before and for that he was a little ashamed.  He’d done a tour in Iraq but he’d been based at the air-field and there had never been any real action there.  He’d wondered what it felt like when you got shot at, when bombs were going off around you.  He wondered seriously if he was up to that job.  Now there had been an explosion somewhere and he realized that he was a little out of his element.

“What was that?” asked Newman, his eyes wide.

“Grenade,” Replied Chung.  “You can get up.”  Newman looked resentfully up at the lieutenant and then got to his feet.

The two of them moved quickly, Chung leading the way.  Chung saw the cloud of smoke pouring up from a wooden hut.  It proved to be a pig pen.  Before they reached it and got an explanation, a woman appeared from nowhere.  She was in her late fifties or early sixties, dark hair and a sun battered face. She began assailing them in fluent and high speed Spanish.  Marcus spoke a little Spanish, you didn’t grow up in Los Angeles and not pick up some Espanol.  But Marcus couldn’t follow the words, not at this speed.

“Lo Siento” He said and pushed past her.

Hannah McPherson, a person that Marcus liked and generally considered to be quite reasonable and sane, appeared to be pouring kerosene onto this pig pen.  “What in God’s name are you doing?” asked Chung, incredulous.

Hannah didn’t reply, she just kept pouring Kerosene.  She’d emptied an entire drum of the stuff onto the pig pen.  To her left stood Storm, he was smoking a cigarette.

“Specialist, put that damn cigarette out before you blow us all to hell,” barked Chung.

“I think we might already be there Lieutenant,” drawled Storm in his South Carolina accent.

“Just do it,” snapped Chung.

“Sir,” Replied Storm with a smile.  He put the cigarette out onto his own Kevlar body armour with a hiss that made Chung’s skin crawl.

“What are you doing Hannah?” asked Marcus Chung.

She turned and looked at him and for a moment, he thought she was going to slap him.  Her face was twisted, her normal bright eyes dull.  She had a blood stain on her chin.  Chung looked at her and he closed his mouth.

“We need to burn this,” she said flatly.

“Why?” asked Chung.

“Show him what’s in there,” she said tonelessly.

Storm grinned and pointed into the pig pen where there was smoke rising already.  Chung could see writing feet and something else.  He got closer, caught a glimpse, turned and had to put a hand to his mouth.

“What the fuck is that?” asked Newman.

“You’re next kiddo,” Said Storm.

“We’ve got to burn it,” Repeated Hannah.

“Yes we do.  But first we need to know what it is,” said Chung, amazed at his own apparent calm.  “Storm, shine a light on it.”

Storm did so, taking a flashlight and shining it onto the strange, bloody mess that was still moving.  Newman caught a glimpse and sprang backwards.

“Oh fuck me,” he screeched.

“Pretty aint it?” said Storm, with no mirth in his voice at all.

Chung gazed at the hellish apparition and saw something that turned his stomach again.  He fought back the reaction, the desire to turn and throw up, to turn and run.   He may have been out of his element when grenades were going off, but this might be closer to it.

“Well you know that this isn’t a human being, right?” asked Chung.

“We figured that when we shot his head off and he tried to get up,” shot back Storm.

“But did you see what happened with the pigs?” asked Chung.

“Yes,” breathed Hannah.

“He’s fused with them, the pigs.”

“Yes,” she said again.

“So what the fuck is he?” asked Newman.

“He’s taking over the pigs mass,” Said Chung.  “Look at the way they are almost being dissolved.”  The flashlight caught a glimpse of something that may have been porcine once.

“I have my suspicions about this thing.  But yes, you’re right.  We’ve got to kill it.  Set the fire.” Said Chung.  Hannah’s face brightened up and she threw a lit matchbook into the pig pen.

The fire sprung up quickly and there was a strange burbling scream from inside the pig pen.  Chung couldn’t decide what it sounded like but it was certainly not human.  He ran his hands through his hair and took a drink of water from a shaking bottle.  His hands were shaking uncontrollably.

“We’ll need to put that out, I want to be able to examine it,” Said Chung.

“For what?” asked Newman.

“I need to find out what we’re dealing with here, what this thing is” Replied Chung.

“Ok,” Said Hannah, she watched the fire burn and Chung thought he saw a little life return to those eyes.