Franco beckoned Galati from the stairs. A moment later he rendezvoused with Franco next to the elevator doors.
"Hold here," Sergeant Franco reversed direction, passed the stairs again, and joined Moss at the corner.
"Too dark," Moss said and Franco saw that he was not lying. After the first few paces around the corner there was nothing to see except for a wall of black; not a single light source.
Franco thought for a second, looked at Moss’s weapon, then whacked the soldier on the back of the head in a move not far removed from Moe slapping Curly. Moss mouthed the words “what the fuck?” but understood when the sergeant tapped the scope on the soldier's M4.
Moss sheepishly raised his rifle and used the infrared site to survey the dark hall. After a moment of searching the black void for heat sources — including body heat — Moss turned to his sergeant and reported, "Clear."
Feeling it was now safe to break silence, Franco said to Moss, "Thanks, dumb ass. Now hump it back up the stairs and bring our fearless leader down here."
Seconds later the rest of the unit came down the stairs and gathered near the elevator.
"We could make our way across this floor until we get to the next stairway down."
Campion, glancing at his own wrist-mounted computer, broke in, "It looks like that would take us through the bioweapons research division."
"So?"
"So," Campion answered, "after twenty years it's possible a vial of anthrax or bubonic plague might have broken its seal. Probably best if we steer clear of that."
Gant said, "This elevator would be a more direct route."
"Going to be a big drop," Campion said.
"One floor," Franco sneered.
"Did you see the blueprints?" Campion came back. "There's ten feet of rock plus nearly as much concrete between each of the levels. This wasn't built like an office building; it's more like a dressed up mine shaft."
"He's right, man," Wells agreed. "Felt like we went down three flights of stairs and it was only one level."
Gant pushed aside the debate, ordering, "Sergeant, set up a perimeter. Moss, Campion, get these doors open."
While Franco deployed the rest of the team to cover both directions of the hall as well as the stairs they had just left behind, Gant oversaw Moss and Campion as the two used their knives and fingers to pry open the elevator doors. When they did, a smell like hot wires or skidding rubber floated up through the shaft on a cushion of cold air.
Twiste put down his duffel bag and pulled from his utility belt a light stick, which he snapped and dropped down the shaft. The green glow landed atop the elevator car, nearly two dozen feet below.
"Let me get this straight," he said to Gant. "They built elevators that go between only two floors? That's government efficiency for you right there."
"It's for security," Campion answered, either ignoring or missing the sarcasm in Twiste's tone. "Just like the stairwells."
Gant ordered, "We require an anchor and a rope."
"I've got rope," Moss said.
Major Gant thought for a second, glanced around, and said, "There should be electrical or plumbing conduits above the drop ceiling that might make for a usable anchor."
They went to work immediately. It pleased Gant to see his men focused on the task, although he should have expected as much if for no other reason than that the men were not privy to all the horror stories Lieutenant Colonel Thunder had dug up about the place, so they approached Red Rock like any other mission.
The soldiers removed a ceiling tile and tightly tied one end of the rope to a thick pipe. Campion tossed the other end down the shaft.
"Okay, then," Thom said. "It is my turn to go on point."
"Sir?" Campion and Twiste protested in unison.
"Just keep Captain Twiste here and the V.A.A.D. components safe. They are your primary concern. I'll go down first. If all is clear, send down Franco's scout team. If there is a problem, start off for the stairs on the far side."
"Trying to play the hero?" Twiste asked.
"Just doing my part, actually."
Gant moved to the elevator shaft, lowered himself over the edge, and rappelled down once … twice … and was then on top of the car. He used the tactical light on his HK MP5 to search for a roof hatch, which he found and opened. Twenty years of neglect resulted in a horrid squeal from the hinges. He might as well have sounded a bullhorn.
Too late to turn back now.
He shined the light mounted under the barrel of his gun into the opening.
More darkness, no apparent threats.
"We’re good," he said into his headset and looked up at Campion. The interference, however, completely jumbled the transmission, so he added a thumbs up in the beam of the captain's light, which was pointed down the shaft.
Things seemed to be going as good as could be expected. They had penetrated the complex without opposition, despite far too much noise. Once the scout team descended, he would send them through the elevator out into sublevel 7, one floor above the target zone.
Overhead, a soldier descended the rope, his boots scraping off the sides of the elevator shaft and generally coming down in a manner far too clumsy for the major's liking. Gant made a mental note to visit the training grounds for practice, but then he saw who it was: Brandon Twiste with his duffle bag.
"What are you doing? I wanted the scout team first."
"Yeah, I know, but Campion insisted I go next. He practically pushed me down the shaft. Something about protecting the gear and me, and then he said something weird."
"What?"
"He said, 'go away, it's playtime.' Not sure what he was getting at but—"
Gant ignored the rest of Twiste's explanation and radioed, "Captain Campion, what is your status?"
He shined his light up the shaft and saw nothing and was about to reach for the rope when a voice said something over his headset. It sounded like Franco. And it sounded like the word, "movement!"
Then the shouting began, not over the radio but echoing into the shaft from the floor above.
"Movement behind!"
"Multiple targets!"
More shouting, but he could not make out the words through the sound of gunfire. First a solitary shot, then a prolonged volley.
"Thom…"
"Get down into the elevator car," Gant said, grabbing Twiste by the shoulder and moving him to the opening.
"What about you?"
Instead of answering with words, he reached for the rope, but before he could start climbing the entire line — free of its anchor — dropped to his feet.
Overhead a flash lit the top of the shaft like a stroke of lightning and was followed by a jet of flame blasting through the open door above.
"Down! Now!"
He pushed Twiste and his bag through the open hatch and jumped himself just as a burning blast of fire spread through the chute, threatening to singe his hair.
The two landed in the elevator car. Their jump kicked up a storm of dust that made Twiste sneeze, although he barely noticed after banging his head on the wall and doing something painful to his ankle upon landing.
Light, heat, and sound from the battle one story above followed them down, forcing them out the open doors and into the sublevel 7 corridor, where they collapsed on the cold floor.
Thom shook the cobwebs from his head and moved to kneel, sweeping his surroundings with his MP5. The beam from the tactical light illuminated a tight hallway lined with pipes, wires, and smashed lights. In the distance — far away — he spied a red glow. In the other direction he saw a small metal door that looked like it belonged to a utility closet or something similar.
"Listen," Twiste said, although his voice sounded somewhat muffled, as he held a hand against a red mark on his cheek.