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“Good,” he said after the fifth had spoken, “get in the trucks. We’re going to finish this.”

Chapter 14

Washington, D.C.

Outside, in the middle of the tightly-packed buildings on the grounds of the old naval observatory, the shots from Jacob’s pistol sounded as though they were coming from every direction. Rick was the first to move in response to the gunfire, pulling Oles and Dr. Evans down to the ground as he ducked behind the hood of the car. A spray of plastic was accompanied by the sound of arcing electricity as the monitor fell down on top of Rick’s head, a large hole punched clean through the center. Three more shots rang out and Rick heard the server bounce around as shots ricocheted off of the metal backing and one punched through, hitting the drives and causing a loud scrape of metal as the platters ground to a halt.

“Give me the codes!” Jacob screamed again as he slowly shuffled toward the car. Rick ducked down low and watched Jacob’s feet as he approached, trying to estimate which direction the Russian was going to take when circling around. With his rifle sitting on the roof of the car, grabbing it would be a large risk, and one that would likely result in him taking a bullet or two in the process.

“Jacob, please! You don’t have to do this!” Rick glanced over and saw Oles sitting next to him, leaned over and shouting at his former friend. “You can stop this right now!”

“No I can’t!” Jacob yelled back, continuing his slow walk toward the car.

“Jacob, listen to me, please!” Oles was nearly in tears as he continued pleading with Jacob. “The endgame is near. This is about to get a whole lot worse for everyone in the world. You can help us stop it, though!”

Jacob stopped, a few feet from the side of the car’s trunk. Rick took a quick peek up through the windows and saw the Russian standing there, his body swaying back and forth. Dried blood matted his hair and flaked off of his neck as he rubbed a hand across it, and Rick briefly felt bad for him. How he had managed to live through the brutal beating Rick had given him was nothing short of impressive.

“I’m sorry, Oles. If I could stop, I would. My… my family, though…” Jacob choked up, and Rick could see tears starting to run down his face. “They have my family, you know. He does. He took me in, told me that if the Spetsnaz failed or turned, it would be my job to bring the codes back. If I don’t… they die.” A long, deep breath and the shakiness went out of Jacob’s voice. “I can’t let that happen.”

“Neither can I.” Rick peeked out again, seeing that Jacob was focused on the rear of the car, and made his move. He turned and stood up just far enough to reach for the rifle on the top of the car. Metal scraped on metal as he grabbed it, and he pulled it down and got back into cover just as Jacob turned and fired. A spray of safety glass blew over the three men, but Rick didn’t hesitate. He scuttled around Dr. Evans, moving to the front of the car where he got on his knees, slammed his arms down on the hood and shouldered the rifle in a single, smooth motion.

One more shot, louder than the others, rang out. It bounced off the walls of the buildings at the observatory, traveled down the empty streets and petered out as it disappeared off into the sky. Jacob’s form wavered for a moment before he collapsed, smacking his head on the trunk of the car before falling into a heap. The distant returning echoes of the bullet were the only sounds in the observatory grounds for a long moment until Oles finally cried out.

“Damn it, Jacob!” He stood and walked over to his former friend’s corpse, crossing himself and continuing on in a string of Russian that neither Rick nor Dr. Evans could understand. While the words were unintelligible to them, the emotion was clear. Anger, raw and primal, mixed with regret and profound sadness tinged them, permeating into Rick and Dr. Evans and making them both feel what Oles felt.

Dr. Evans slowly approached Oles and put his good arm around him. “I’m sorry. I know you two were friends. It sounds like… like this might not have been entirely under his control.”

Oles shook his head vigorously. “No. He still bears responsibility. It doesn’t matter what they threatened him with… but it was his family.” He shook his head, unsure what to think.

“Whatever there is to figure out, we’ll figure out later,” Rick replied as he stood up and looked at the damage done to the computer systems that had been sitting atop the car. “For right now, we need to decide what to do about all of… this.” The damage that Rick had heard being done to the server was as bad as it had sounded in the midst of the firefight. Shards of hard drive platters were embedded on the interior plastic of the case, rendering them inoperable.

“We can get another system,” Oles replied.

“Do we even need one?” Rick asked, looking at the pair. “The commands are written. You said Damocles will read it off of anything that it infects, right?” He turned and gazed at the nearby rooftop. “The LKN will accept this type of data source. We might not have power, though, with the abuse this system went through.”

“Maybe we do need a new system then, just to power the LKN.”

“Hmm.” Rick scratched his chin. “Let’s pull the dead drives and see if we can get this thing powered on.”

Dr. Evans pulled the plug from the back of the server and they quickly went to work disassembling the device. A few minutes in, as a stiff breeze was kicking up, Rick cocked his head to the side. “You two hear that?”

Noises signaling danger had been a constant theme since the start of the event, and the mere mention of an odd sound set Dr. Evans and Oles on edge. It was a muffled warble, coming from somewhere close by yet sounding too faint to easily pinpoint the source. The longer they listened, the more confused they grew until Dr. Evans drew in a sharp gasp of air.

“Warning alarm. It’s from the bunker.”

“Alarm in the bunker?”

Dr. Evans was already on the move, heading for the very door that Jacob had emerged from. He moved relatively quickly in spite of his injury, and he paused at the entrance to the building after pulling open the door, a look of panic crossing his face.

“What is it?” Oles’ face began to match Dr. Evans’.

“It’s an advanced launch warning.” He glanced at Rick, seeing the look of confusion. “Certain launch conditions include broadcasts to high-priority stations. The birthplace of Damocles would qualify, without a doubt.”

“How could that possibly be happening?” Rick shook his head.

“Damocles would have left emergency communications alone, so that enemies under attack would have a final chance to surrender.”

“Does that mean…” Rick started.

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