Colbert entered the laboratory, cast his gaze over Kessler’s corpse, his ripped face and the pooled blood around his head, then across the room at Buckner. Black substance covered the man’s head and slowly oozed down his chest. His eyes focused on the red rapidly blinking light by Kessler’s hand and the bag of explosives too close to escape the blast when the charge erupted. He spun, almost stumbling over Richard snatching up Kessler’s rifle.
Colbert shoved Richard towards the exit. “Run!”
Glimpsing the prophetic flashing red LED, Richard was more than willing to obey the command. The damn SEALs were almost as dangerous as the aliens.
They dashed from the room and sprinted along the corridor. When they reached the hall, a loud explosion rang out. An even louder, more violent blast followed in its wake. Glass, metal and pieces of unrecognizable scientific equipment broke into thousands of fragments to become deadly shrapnel spraying in all directions. Blown off their feet by the confined blast funneled through the level, Colbert slammed into Richard and both were thrown to the floor.
Carried by the blast, shards fashioned from multiple material, all with edges as lethal as any blade or claw, shot over them. Debris rained down around the men, clanged down the corridor, became embedded in the walls, floor and ceiling. A few pieces pierced flesh.
When the explosion subsided, Richard raised his head at the chaos around him and the smoke drifting down the corridor. Feeling the weight pressing him to the floor, he at first thought part of the ceiling had collapsed on him. When groans close to his ear indicated what trapped him, he squirmed and pushed Colbert off. As soon as he was free of the man’s weight, Richard sat up and examined his body for wounds. Miraculously, he had received none.
Groans nearby brought his gaze to Colbert, who hadn’t been so lucky. A jagged twist of metal protruding from the man’s left shoulder and two long slivers of glass in his side and right leg were highlighted in Colbert’s weapon light, which had landed a short distance away. Colbert had shielded Richard when he fell atop him and took the full brunt of the shrapnel. Richard grinned. Lady Luck was still with him.
With his ears ringing, Richard slipped the pistol Colbert had given him earlier into a pocket and retrieved the rifle he had taken from Kessler’s corpse. He climbed to his feet and aimed the weapon at Colbert, bathing the prone man in the tactical flashlight.
Colbert opened his dazed eyes, painfully sat up and ran his gaze over Richard’s uninjured form and then at the three large fragments sticking from his flesh. “How in hell’s name did you remain unscathed?”
Richard shrugged. “You fell on top of me, which I now assume wasn’t an intentional act to save me from harm.”
“No, it damn well wasn’t! Geesh, you lead a charmed life.”
“Not really.” Richard put a hand to his leg. “I didn’t escape completely unharmed. I banged my knee when you knocked me to the floor.”
“Quick, call a medic. Richard has a bruise on his knee,” quipped Colbert.
“Oh, I don’t think I hit it hard enough to bruise.”
When Richard noticed Colbert’s weapon a short distance away and out of reach of its owner, he sensed an opportunity he might not get again. His plan to head for the elevator and flee was thwarted by running footsteps heading nearer. Cursing inwardly, he noticed Colbert grinning at him, as if the man guessed what he had been about to do.
Richard shrugged and looked at Sullivan and Dalton. “Colbert’s wounded.”
“What the hell happened?” asked Sullivan, taking in the wreckage. “We heard the explosion.”
The man’s accusing gaze wasn’t lost on Richard. “It was nothing I did. Buckner and Kessler were attacked and killed by the alien.”
“That doesn’t explain the explosion,” argued Dalton. His weapon jerked along the corridor when an iron girder from the weakened structure crashed to the floor.
Wincing from the pain radiating out from his wounds, Colbert glanced at the destroyed labs. Though the right-side labs had been destroyed and every pain of glass around the epicenter of the explosion had blown out or cracked, the left-side group of labs remained more or less intact.
Colbert turned to Dalton. “As Richard said, Buckner and Kessler were attacked, and both were dead by the time we reached them. Buckner was responsible for the explosion. He must have advanced the timer on a charge before he died, probably an attempt to kill the creature that attacked them.”
Sullivan gripped the twisted seven-inch piece of metal in Colbert’s shoulder. “You ready? It’s gonna hurt.”
Colbert gritted his teeth and nodded. He grimaced when it was pulled free.
“Did it work?” asked Dalton, staring at the wreckage for signs of movement. “Is the creature dead?”
Richard shrugged and waved an arm at the destroyed laboratories. “You’re welcome to go find out, but an explosion killed one a lot larger in Antarctica, so hopefully Buckner’s death wasn’t a complete waste.”
“I wouldn’t go down that route,” warned Dalton, stepping threateningly close to Richard.
Richard stepped back. “You can cut out the macho bullshit, your friends are dead, end of story. We aren’t and have more important things to worry about.” He pointed back at the laboratories that remained relatively intact. “There’s a huge, alien, egg-laying monster back there and a roomful of eggs about to hatch. If you don’t want to suffer the same horrendous fate as your buddies, I strongly urge we take that elevator out of here ASAP.”
“Great! The alien’s breeding,” moaned Dalton. “Can this mission get more fucked up?”
“We’re not leaving until the mission’s completed,” stated Colbert, flinching when Sullivan removed the two shards of glass from his side and leg. “We still have the remaining charges to set and the egg-laying alien to destroy.”
Sullivan helped Colbert to his feet. Though none of his wounds were overly serious, they seeped blood and needed attention.
Aware the soldiers wouldn’t let him leave, and their chances of survival were slim if the alien eggs hatched, Richard knew he’d have to take matters into his own hands if he was going to survive. The longer he remained in the secret facility the more chance he had of being killed. Also, the Russians were on their way and could arrive at any moment. If they were discovered violating one of their secret bases he couldn’t see them letting them walk away. They’d be killed or interrogated and imprisoned in a gulag, events he wished to avoid at all costs. He picked up his dropped bag of explosive charges, set one of the timers for seventeen hundred hours and dropped it back into the bag with the others.
Richard turned to the soldiers watching him. “Dalton, you’re with me. Sullivan, you help Colbert to the elevator and wait for our return.”
“What are you up to, Richard?” enquired Colbert, suspecting bringing Richard along was about to pay off.
“I’m going to complete your damn suicide mission for you. There’s a roomful of those aliens about to be born, and I can’t see how we can fight them all if one managed to take out your two buddies.” Richard nodded at the bag slung over Dalton’s shoulder. “How many charges you got left?”
Dalton looked to his commander for guidance. When Colbert nodded, he glanced in the bag. “Nine.”
“This is what we’ll do,” stated Richard with an authority that surprised the SEALs. “Because Colbert needs medical attention, whatever we’re going to do we need to do fast. Dalton and I will head to the alien birthing chamber, throw the explosives inside and return to the elevator. We’ll then head for Level 1, planting the remaining charges on the way, get Colbert patched up in the first aid station we passed earlier and leave this hell hole. The explosives will destroy the creature, its unhatched offspring and the facility, job done.”