Nicholas Smith - Extinction Edge

“This map focuses just on Manhattan,” Kennor replied gruffly.

“Yes, sir, but if you add up every single other cluster in the metro area, you will see there are only fifty thousand of the creatures accounted for. So where the hell did the other million plus go?”

Kennor closed the lid to his laptop, folded his hands, and cleared his throat. “I’m going to be blunt here. Dr. Lovato was clearly off on her calculations. I appreciate her work, but let’s be honest, Jensen. That many people don’t simply vanish. And we’ve been running recon missions for weeks. Between flyovers, scouts, and satellite imagery, we have a pretty good idea of what we’re up against.”

Jensen picked at a hangnail under the table, out of view. He could feel a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Sir, I understand how this sounds, but we could be walking into a trap in New York. Why not insert a Special Ops team into the city? The Variants could be underground, in the subways or storm tunnels. I’d request that you delay Operation Liberty until we know—”

Kennor shook his head. He crunched his eyebrows again, forming a hundred wrinkles. “Absolutely not ,” he growled. “Do you realize how much coordination and planning has gone into this mission? New York is only one of a hundred other cities. The Marine company in New York and the teams you will supply are only a small piece of the overall puzzle here. We need you in this fight. I need you in this fight. And I need you to keep your goddamn cool. This is just the sort of claim that could cause panic or desertion.”

The general scratched a day’s worth of gray stubble on his chin. “Quite frankly, we’re running out of time to take back our country. Every minute we wait, more survivors are brutally murdered and eaten by those things .”

Jensen bit back a response.

“Besides, you’re forgetting one key piece of information here,” continued Kennor.

“Sir?” Jensen asked.

“We are part of the United States military. And we have the most advanced weapons in the world at our disposal. The Variants are the equivalent of our distant Neanderthal ancestors. They don’t drive cars or fly jets. They can’t even fire a handgun. So I don’t care if there are one thousand or one million. Operation Liberty will crush them. The battle will be a slaughter.”

Yeah, thought Jenson, that’s what General Custer said right before the ‘savage’ Indians killed every single one of his men.

He shuddered at the thought but mastered his temper. “General Kennor, if you won’t delay the mission, at least provide me the opportunity to insert a team of my own. I have some Delta Force Operators here at Plum Island that have proven to be great assets.”

Kennor seemed to consider the request for a moment but then shook his head. “We have Recon Marines in the city, no need to waste more time on a useless mission.” He looked down at his watch. “Operation Liberty will launch as scheduled.”

Jensen fought the urge to speak his mind. General Kennor was panicking. He was anxious as hell to get this all over with, no matter what it took. And there was nothing Jensen could say that would change the man’s mind.

“Anything else?” Kennor asked.

“No, sir.”

“Good luck,” Kennor replied, reaching to shut off the feed.

The screen went dark and Jensen pounded the desk with his right fist. “The man is delusional!”

“Maybe so,” Major Smith said from the observation window. “But he’s right about the firepower. What can Variants do against missiles and tanks?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Jensen said. “Those things are evolving. Our teams could be heading into a trap. We can’t afford to underestimate the enemy. One mistake could send the human race spiraling toward extinction.”

Hickman grabbed her headset and slipped it back on. “Sir, I’m receiving a transmission from Echo 1.”

Jensen rushed over to the communication equipment, forgetting the conversation with Kennor.

“Echo 1, 2 and 3 are en route to Plum Island. They have fifty-two survivors in total,” Hickman said. “Echo 3 requests medical support for—” Her eyes shot up with concern. “For Master Sergeant Beckham.”

“How bad?” Jensen asked.

“Not sure, sir.”

Jensen cursed. With Operation Liberty still moving forward, he would need to find someone else to lead a team. Beckham’s fate affected many on the island, including Kate Lovato. He would need to tell her before the Black Hawks returned.

“Your briefing is in thirty minutes,” Smith reminded him.

Jensen nodded. Every man and woman on the island was waiting for his report. He’d made them a promise that he would keep them informed, a promise he fully intended to keep. But first he needed to meet with Kate.

The moment Riley had closed his eyes, he had fallen asleep. The pain medicines were powerful, and even the Delta Operator couldn’t resist them for long. Kate watched his chest move up and down for a few minutes, just to make sure he was out. Then she checked his biomonitor one last time and walked out of the medical ward, pausing in front of the doors to the ICU to see if she could catch a glimpse of Colonel Gibson’s room. The dimly lit corridor revealed two Marines standing guard.

The sight meant he was still alive. Good , she thought. Maybe after Operation Liberty was complete, Central Command would have the time and assets to try the man for international war crimes. If things ever did return to semi-normal, the trial would draw the same sort of press that Nuremburg had after World War II.

She left the building in a hurry and ran past the two Medical Corps guards posted at the entrance without uttering a word. Kate was anxious to get back to the lab. Ellis had assured her that they would finally have blood samples of Variants from around the country.

The mid-morning sun cast a beautiful trail of light across the concrete drive that connected the campus of domed buildings. A cool breeze rustled through her hair as she jogged to Building 1. Overhead, a single seagull dotted the blue sky. The bird spread its wings and then swooped toward the ocean, vanishing into the sunlight.

Kate shielded her eyes and stopped to check her watch. The choppers would have extracted Beckham and the other survivors now. They would be back in hours. She suppressed the prickle of anxiety and ran up the steps to Building 1.

Inside, she suited up and concentrated on the tasks ahead. Compartmentalizing her schedule took the edge off, gave her something to focus on. Gibson hadn’t given her anything she could work with. Nothing new, at least. Only tests would determine how the Variants were truly changing and hopefully reveal a way to stop them before it was too late. It was up to her team now, and whatever teams were left across the country.

She zipped up the back of her suit and slipped her helmet on. Cindy, the young scientist and engineer assigned to Kate’s team, was already busy working on the other side. Ellis sat at the adjacent station, staring at his computer screen. Behind them, the other compartments were all bustling with activity.

Kate held her keycard over the security panel. A chirp followed as the doors hissed open.

“Good morning,” Ellis said, keeping his focus on his monitor.

“Morning,” she replied. “Did we receive the samples?”

“Sure did. They came in during the night.” Cindy typed a few keystrokes and brought up a myriad of data streams. “I’ve already started the tests you requested.”

“And?” Kate moved to the right so Ellis could point at the screen. His finger stopped on the middle row of data.