The Spire Read online

  When he struck the lower portion of his legs, the second man fell forward swept off his feet. He hit the floor hard, but was already turning himself upward, swinging his arm up to protect himself from the blow he believed would be coming. Miller instead grabbed the arm wrenching it behind the man’s back at a sickening angle. He dropped his entire weight on the man pinning his arm between both their bodies. Miller utilized both hands to grab the mop of hair the second attacker had on his head and used it as grip to slam his face into the tile half a dozen times until resistance ended completely and a pool of blood began to spread across the shiny surface.

  He hopped off the corpse and turned to find the first attacker gasping for air on the ground. Miller delivered a swift kick to the side of his head, knocking him into unconsciousness where his damaged windpipe would continue to swell and suffocate him in his sleep. Aaron stood there for a brief moment marveling at how the Longevity vaccine had made it possible for a man such as himself, in his mid-sixties, to perform at such a peak level. He set to work looking through the men’s pockets, finding nothing, and then calling for Eva.

  She opened the door to the stall just enough to see out the gap. Her eyes widened at the carnage.

  “Make sure you cover her eyes and watch your step,” he cautioned her.

  Eva nodded, too stunned for words and a moment later exited the stall with Maria, holding her daughter up by her rear with her other hand draped over Maria’s eyes. “I assume we’re leaving now.”

  The three of them left the restroom, moving along the walkway toward the nearest staircase. The design of the walkway allowed for those on it to look over the railing and down into the first floor giving the visitor an additional perspective on the many planes, space craft, and rockets exhibited there. It also gave Miller a clear line of sight toward the exit. The moment he looked at the glass wall his threat identification system loaded into his contact lenses began to identify several men outside armed with rifles and heading toward the museum. His personal digital assistant classified them as hostiles due to their lack of security attire and uniform weaponry. Miller turned and stopped Eva and Maria.

  “We can’t leave,” he said, turning them the way they had come and heading toward a door that was marked for employees only on the opposite side of the museum from that entrance. Gunfire ripped through the sound of alarms and the automated message. Screams followed and so did gun shots from the museum guards. However, the volume of return fire let Miller know that the government security wouldn’t likely hold their attackers for long.

  “Where are we going?” Eva asked.

  “Trying to find an alternate exit,” Miller stated, his hand pushing the employee door open and all three rushing through into a short hallway with executive offices on either side. The path opened up into a large work space where cubicles with small holographic projectors displayed various bits of information and projects. As they entered into the space, Miller watched as Eva bolted toward a door along the outer wall marked “EXIT.”

  He quickly caught up to her, dropping a hand on her shoulder and stopping her. “What are you doing? That’s our way out,” she murmured, bewildered that he would stop them.

  Miller motioned for her to go low to the ground and then made his way to the wall, keeping himself below the window sill. Eva followed with Maria clutching to her tightly, face buried in her blouse.

  “Stay there,” he said, sticking his head up just high enough to get a quick glimpse over the window’s edge out toward Independence Avenue and the buildings beyond. He looked too quickly for any person to have actually processed what they saw, instead relying on his contacts to capture whatever there was to be seen. He came back down and reviewed the recording, identifying several very heavily armed people approaching from that direction.

  “We can’t take this exit. It opens up onto the street and there are hostiles down there.”

  Screams erupted from the direction they had come, cut short by the sharp crack of semi-automatic gun fire. “What are we going to do?” Eva asked, her eyes wide, her hands tightening their grip on Maria.

  Miller gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes softened and her head instinctively dipped toward it. “I want you to go through the door into the stairwell,” he responded.

  “But you just said…”

  “Don’t exit to the outside. Stay in there at the bottom. I doubt these guys have the digital tools necessary to hack to exterior door locks.”

  He pushed open the door and she stayed there for a moment. “You need to come with us.”

  He dipped his head, quietly stating, “Eva, they’re here for the two of you. They know you’re in the building, and they haven’t seen you leave yet.” He paused, “They aren’t going away until either someone deals with them or they achieve their objective.”

  She nodded. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, moving into the stairwell. Maria stretched her arm out to reach for him as they walked past.

  The door closed and Miller was already on the move to the hallway. He paused at a cubicle long enough to pull a pair of scissors out of a supply spinner on the desk top. He continued to the hallway, pressing his back up along the wall right before entering into it. The door at the end of the hallway opened, and he could hear four men talking to each other, shouting orders as they searched the executive offices. The voices neared, as did the noise of all the gear they were wearing. He could hear one of them, mere feet away, getting ready to enter the collaborative work space. He watched as the tip of the barrel of an assault rifle entered into his field of view pointing toward the center of the large space.

  Once the rifle was halfway exposed, Miller’s right hand shot out and grabbed it by the barrel. It immediately began to fire as he wrenched it forward into the room. Its owner now exposed as he refused to let go. Miller let out a roar as the heat from the barrel seared his palm and used his left hand to drive the scissors into the man’s eye. His hands immediately let go of the rifle, and Miller took control of it. Bolting from his spot along the wall to a corner cubicle in the first row, the space he had occupied exploded in puffs and pieces of dry wall as the now dead man’s friends shot into the corner at the end of the hall.

  Miller took up a firing position behind the filing cabinet of the cubicle he was located in. Two of the men rushed into the space, one doing what the very first failed to and check the corner. However as he came into view, Miller placed three bullets squarely into his chest. The man stumbled backward crashing into the wall. His red blood clashing with the light gray paint, as his friend flung himself into the mass of cubicles. Miller immediately spun around, crouching to stay below the walls of the cubicles as he made his way to a different firing position. After a moment, he quickly looked around a corner finding the third attacker looking over the top of his cover with his weapon aimed at Miller’s previous position. He brought the barrel of the gun up and placed a bullet into the side of the man’s head; his body dropping to the ground.

  “Jack!” the last attacker screamed.

  Miller was already on the move again, heading down a different path to the back of the cubicles, when a heavy round object bounced off the wall next to him. He never directly looked at it, instead seeing the item in his peripheral vision and immediately changing his direction, throwing himself over a large conference table when the world exploded. For a moment he wasn’t sure which direction was up as he tumbled; furniture and papers flying through the air. He slammed awkwardly into a filing cabinet and hollered at the loud snap he heard and, a moment later, felt in his ribs.

  The fire suppression system activated and Miller just lay there for a moment blinking the water droplets from his eyes. He tried to roll over onto his hands but let out a shout of pain. He looked at his ribs, and swearing, he pushed through the pain as he rolled over onto his hands and stomach. He was pushing himself up when he was flung onto his back yet again by a powerful kick to the ribs. His hands instinctively went to his injury, suppressing a cry of pain at
having them damaged yet again.

  His vision focused on the unshaven face of a white man, his beard several inches in length. Its cocoa brown tint matched by that of his eyes, which ripped into Miller. “You killed my brother you fucking rent a cop!” he screamed leveling his rifle at Miller’s face.

  Miller chuckled, “I did your family a favor. Punk bitch amateur like that was too stupid to breed.”

  The man stepped toward him, his face burning with rage. The barrel of the gun inched ever closer and then stopped, “Nah… you’re a fucking Twinkie. That’s how you managed to kill all my boys. I think I’ll blow your brains out a few steps away so that you can’t get my gun."

  “Guess you’re the smartest of the inbred hillbillies,” Miller said through his gritted teeth.

  The man raised the rifle to his shoulder and looked down the sight. “Hope you were happy with that joke, ‘cause it’s the la—”

  The attacker’s head jerked to the side, a spray of blood, bone, and brain matter settling on Miller and all the furniture nearby, quickly washed away by the flood of water raining down upon them. The body dropped inches from Miller who had already collected his rifle and was using it as a crutch to push himself up onto his knee. The sound of heavy booted feet could be heard as two members of his team swept through work space. Thomas, his second in command, came directly over to him. The smaller frame of Natalia giving away her presence underneath her gear and armor as she went to the emergency exit door.

  Tom came up to him and immediately assessed his condition, checking his broken ribs. “Pretty good timing, huh, sir?”

  Miller grunted as Tom’s gloved fingers probed the tender part of his side. “I prefer when it’s less dramatic.” He took a breath, “What’s the plan, and stop calling me sir. We aren’t in the Navy anymore."

  “Sorry Commander,” Thomas said with a wink. “As for exfiltration, once you get off your ass, we’ll use that emergency stairwell and get to our rides."

  “There are at least half a dozen hostiles out there.”

  Tommy laughed, “Not any more there aren’t.”

  “Good man!”

  “Raise?”

  “When you love what you do, the pay doesn’t matter,” Miller said, forcing himself to his feet. He looked back toward the hallway and could see Walter’s back, using the corner for cover as he aimed down the hall. Tommy smiled and took up position close to the emergency exit but with a clear line of sight on the entrance, sending three clicks over their radio system as he did.

  Walter spun around and ran through the puddles that had formed in the carpet. He avoided the section of the floor that had collapsed with the explosion and joined up with Miller, helping him down the stairs. Tommy took up the rear making sure no one surprised them from above.

  Once they were all at the bottom, Eva wrapped her arms around Miller for a moment. The other members of the team looked away, and Miller awkwardly separated them. He knelt down and looked over Maria.

  Miller’s hand swept Maria’s hair behind her ear and she smiled at him appreciating his attempt at providing her with comfort. He stood, accepting a clip of ammunition from his team. He pulled up Jacob's contact information in his virtual vision requesting communication between the two of them.

  Within a second Patterson had accepted Miller’s request and Miller made his boss aware of their current situation. “We’ve secured the VIPs. Everyone is in good health, and we’ll be exfiltrating to our primary pickup, but I’ll keep you informed if we have to transfer to the secondary,” Miller told him.

  Jacob let out his breath in sigh of relief, “Thank you, Miller.” He paused a moment, “I’ll contact the local authorities and let them know to expect you."

  “Our pleasure sir, I’ll update you again shortly.”

  ___

  The door to the outside opened, and the dramatic shift from the stairwell LEDs to the natural sunlight made Miller wince slightly as they stepped out. The smell of smoke bit at his nose and the sound of gunfire in the not too far off distance made him tense. This wasn’t supposed to happen here; this was his home. He and his team had served together in various units in the Navy for decades. They had dedicated their lives to make sure that no foreign power could ever do this. And yet here they were, watching as Americans killed Americans and ripped down the very institutions that had allowed for the most powerful empire in history to create a golden age of humanity. Starvation, disease, global climate change, and even death from old age were all fading into the past due to the balance that America had created, based on a foundation of blood from men and women such as his team and the vigilance of everyday citizens.

  It wasn’t long ago that he and so many others had received the Longevity vaccine, and, for a time, he had allowed himself to hope that maybe this new job as a security contractor would allow him to spend more time here at home. Let him reconnect with his own daughter and maybe, just maybe, try to start a new family and get it right from the beginning, he now had all the time he would ever need. But now there was a good chance that everything they had worked so hard for was coming to an end and all of their hopes for the future would die at the same time. For a moment he felt a tinge of regret at having taken their attackers out as fast as he had.

  Two SUVs sat just outside the door. In both vehicles, the area that had traditionally served as the engine now supported a dual microwave emitter and powerful laser apparatus. Neither was a lethal weapon, instead designed to disperse crowds and temporarily blind would be attackers. They sat there, silent and waiting, as the onboard sensor suite constantly monitored the people moving in the distance; its programing ready to act if any of them approached.

  The rear passenger door opened and a Medical Drone stepped out. Its slender limbs and torso giving the impression that it could blow away in a stiff breeze, but it was made of sturdy carbon fiber material and was very durable. Miller indicated that Walter should secure Eva and Maria in the SUV and began making his way to the front passenger door. Tommy put a hand on his shoulder, eliciting a wince.

  “Sorry boss, but the drone needs to check you out before we get rolling.”

  Miller grunted, holding his arm out to stop the bot in its tracks. “We need to move,” he argued.

  “We need to move quickly. Miller. If one of those broken ribs punctures your lung, we’ll have to keep you from drowning in your own blood while evading fire,” Natalia said, as she scanned the distance. She kept an experienced and watchful eye on the numerous people who were running from or toward the battles that were raging across the Washington Mall area.

  Miller looked at Tommy, ready to dismiss their concerns, but the very act of turning his head brought stars to his vision. He grunted and then nodded in agreement. Natalia smirked, “Two minutes to get your ribs glued back together and we can move.”

  Miller nodded and let the robot walk up to him. “I will need to cut your shirt sir,” it indicated.

  The space between the bot’s pinky and ring finger morphed slightly, creating two sharp blades. It slid the cloth of his polo shirt between the two, easily slicing the material apart, exposing a large red patch of swollen skin above his ribs. It placed its other hand over the area. The MRI device in its palm allowing it to image the broken ribs. The bot shared the visual to Miller displaying it in his virtual field using Miller’s contacts.

  “You don’t need to prove to me that my ribs are broken,” said Miller.

  The bot looked him directly in the face, nothing more than a black piece of opaque material reflecting his visage back at him, “I will need to perform micro surgery. You cannot move or you run the risk of fusing the bones incorrectly, making breathing difficult."

  “Already there, do it,” Aaron said, placing his arms on top of the open door. The drone provided pinpoint anesthetics to the affected areas and utilized a needle injector from its right hand to begin delivering the nanite-based adhesive to the affected areas.

  Miller didn’t feel much, but needles had always bothere
d him, so he began focusing on the job in order to distract himself. “Tommy, what’s our exfil route?”

  “Haul ass to 9th Street Expressway and take the 14th Street Bridge to Reagan."

  “We sure the route is clear?”

  “Was when our recon drone flew over it?”

  “Have it perform another sweep.” Miller winced as the robot began applying pressure.

  “Would love to boss, but someone shot it down," Tommy wryly responded.

  Miller turned his head too quickly and hissed, dropping his chin at the intense pain that shot through his body. “Alright, that could be disturbing,” he said through grit teeth.

  “How you handling it boss?” asked Tommy.

  “Hurts like fuck, distract me Tom… what the hell is a Twinkie?”

  “Delicious?” Tommy said, clearly unsure what his team lead was asking.

  Natalia angled her head to the side to talk over her shoulder as she was watching the distant movement of people and likely insurgents. “He’s probably talking about the nickname all the babes use for us.”

  Tom let out a laugh, “Oh, cause we can be old as hell but are still fresh.”

  Walter stuck his head out of his SUV. “We need to move. We just popped up on Social media, lit the damn groups up with our exact location and photos of our rides."

  Miller looked at the bot, “You’re done."