John O'Brien - Return

There is only the same as she ascends to the fifth floor and reaches the landing. She stops as Black Team slowly ascends and joins her there. Drescoll informs her that they are all secure on the landings beneath her, each guarded by two soldiers, one covering each door. As her team gathers near her, a hush descends on the landing. Only the muffled sound of shuffling boots is heard. The sound of soldiers climbing vanishing as each takes their positions and waits. Detailing two of her team to stay and guard the fifth floor here, she puts her ear to the door to her left leading out of the stairway and into the building.

Hearing nothing outside, she asks one of her teammates to check the other door, reporting back that there is nothing to be heard. Lynn pushes on the door bar and opens it just a crack. A slight, metallic squeak is all that is heard as she peeks through the crack into what seems like a darkened hallway. Silence greets her as she pushes the door wider and ducks her head in the opening, glancing to her left and right before quickly pulling it back in letting her brain analyze the quick view her eyes sent to it. Realizing she did not see anything amiss, Lynn pushes the door open slowly to the soft, metallic sound of a fire door opening and steps quickly into the hallway; the soldier behind catching and holding the door as she moves out.

Lynn quickly takes a kneeling position in the hallway facing down the hall to her right. The next team member takes a position behind her and faces the opposite direction. Two more quickly enter the hall, one joining her and the second joining the one behind. The door closes with a soft click, one of the soldiers left guarding the landing easing it shut. The tension threatens to engulf them as they there waiting for something to happen. The very air breathes of tension.

“We’re in,” she whispers into the radio mic.

Two clicks on the radio followed by two additional clicks announce that Drescoll and Horace heard her and are acknowledging. Lynn continues to survey the area to her front. The hallway stretches out ahead to the limit that the night vision goggles will allow. Many doors line both sides of the quiet hall, some shut with others open. Picture frames line the walls at intervals. Plaques on the wall next to each door show an individual name, conference room, or the standard bathroom sign. All have room numbers on top and, giving them a look from her position, she can tell that the numbers increase the further away from her the rooms are. The director’s office must be behind me , she thinks hoping it is not on the other side of the stairwell.

“What do you have on your side?” Lynn asks the teammates behind her.

“Hallway ends and opens into some kind of foyer or larger open area,” her teammate responds.

Lynn stands quietly and turns around, tapping one of her team behind her and signaling for them to switch positions. The exchange is completed in almost total silence. The swish of cloth rubbing together is the only indication of movement. Looking at the hallway in the other direction from her new vantage point, she sees that the hallway does end after short distance, opening up into what appears to be some kind of reception room. The tiled hallway gives way to carpeting and the room ahead opens up to the sides. Two desks sit on the carpeting looking out in her direction with a large, shut door in the far wall between them.

Something just does not seem right. There are the words ‘CDC Director’ but they seem to be placed oddly. At first they seem to be on the wooden walls directly above the desks but placed too high. Then they seem to be floating in the air. The light bulb hits. The reception room is fronted by a glass wall with double glass doors leading inside. The writing is on the glass in front. Lynn also sees a thin beam of light peeking out from under the large door set in the far wall. So, that office must have a view of the outside. That will be convenient for searching , she thinks wondering if those glass doors are locked.

“Sergeant Drescoll, this is Jordan on the third floor. I have sound and movement coming from the other side of my door,” a voice whispers in the radio, startling Lynn and sending her adrenaline into overdrive.

“Can you identify what it is?” Lynn hears Drescoll respond to the call.

“Do not open that door,” Lynn quickly whispers into her mic.

“Copy that, First Sergeant. Break. I don’t know what it is but it sounds like something shuffling on the other side,” Jordan answers.

Lynn rises and stares over her shoulder at the stair door. What they came looking for, well, at least the location it should be in, is tantalizingly close. They are not really discovered yet but it is only a matter of time if one or more of the night runners are prowling around. She stands wondering if she should continue and head to the director’s office or pull them back. Her competitive and ‘can do’ mindset compels her to continue; get the files and get out of there. The hackles on the back of her neck rise as she suddenly hears a low growl and a faint sniffing from down the hallway in the direction she is facing. The green glow of her night vision goggles picks out the faint outline of a nose poking out from one of the open doors close by.

Oh shit , she thinks looking at the nose apparently sniffing the air. She stays absolutely motionless. Don’t make a sound . A soft grunt emits from the direction of the night runner at the room’s entrance, followed by a very low, deep growl that fills the otherwise silent hall. Tension fills the air. The soldiers kneel in the darkened hallway like stone statues, poised and ready. Not knowing if they have been found out or not. Waiting for the shriek that will signify their presence is known and alert other night runners.

Lynn sees the soldiers kneeling before her looking from the room, to her, and then slowly back again, waiting for her call to action. She waits hoping the night runner will not smell or hear anything and retire. Regardless, we’re done here , she thinks waiting for the balance to shift one way or the other. Not knowing how many are in here but thinking along the worst case scenario of many. The knowledge they seek is not worth the life of a single soldier in her mind. Or is it? The question runs through her head. If we can gather knowledge that will save others down the road, well…. That line of thinking leaves as the night runner by the door emits a loud shriek, echoing loudly in the in the hall. The team’s scent has apparently reached its nose and it has determined something was indeed here.

“They’re onto us,” Lynn says into her mic. “Hold the doors! We’re on our way out.”

The suddenness of the shriek startles the other soldiers into a form of paralysis. They hold there as the night runner quickly emerges from the opening and out into the hallway, turning in their direction with its first step. Lynn, having slowly raised her M-4 to her shoulder, fires a burst at the night runner. Rounds follow the sharp popping and slight bucking of her rifle out of the barrel, streaking toward its intended target and impacting its skin and bone with solid thumps. The steel collides with its chest, neck and just below the nose, flipping it over backward with a flowering blood spot marking the entry into its chest and a spray of blood from its neck and head covers its face. Shrieks ring out from within the room as more night runners begin pouring out into the hallway.

The explosion of her weapon firing startles the soldiers out of their paralysis and they begin introducing steel into the air down the hallway, dropping the first two night runners that emerge into the hallway, their bodies hitting the linoleum floor hard, sending tremors through the floor and felt beneath the soldier’s boots.