Quantum Theorem Read online

  Christine didn’t even wait for my directions, she followed Nellie. We moved at a good trot till we came upon a small stream that bordered the land around the bunker. Christine and I followed as Doc navigated Nellie down to the water and sat back as the horses drank their fill. He kept looking over to me.

  “Ask the question on your mind Doc.”

  “You didn’t bat an eye when I told you about that UFO ship that shot the shit out of my truck. Which means you have had some experience with them already. So, tell your story boy.”

  I moved my butt over on the saddle trying to ease the soreness from the constant rubbing in the saddle. Doc gave me a knowing smile of my uneasiness. I took in a deep breath and laid out the entire story since I woke up yesterday morning. He listened and only interrupted twice. Once to verify about the multiple realities and the other to get us moving again. I continued the story as we moved off toward the entrance to the bunker. The bunker and its entry were completely hidden from the normal person. From the main gate, a gravel road wound up a low hill to an old red barn. From the outside, the barn looked like any other you see out in the country, but inside it was all steel and modern. All the vehicles were stored inside, and the entry to the living area was actually hidden behind a room that was filled with horse tack. A big metal door was part of the floor, once opened it exposed a staircase that dropped down two levels to a secure steel door. We were not trying to be secretive; we just had a ton of weapons and explosives that the Government mandated we keep secured. The Allen brothers took the safety and anonymity of their company to a conspiracy level yet unseen by anyone.

  Doc and I tied our horses up to a pipe by the front door of the barn. We entered inside and took in the five trucks, one motorcycle, and three SUVs parked inside. That meant that at least some of our team were there.

  We entered the tack room and moved down the hidden staircase. When we came to the vault like door, I entered a code into the keypad next to the door and then counted a slow five seconds in my head and entered a second code. The red light on the panel blinked twice and then went green. I unlatched the door and pulled it open wide enough for us to enter. The door weighed over a ton but was hung with such detail that a single man could easily move it once the locks were disengaged. If the locks hadn’t been undone there was no way to open the door without a mountain of plastic explosives, and then maybe not. Once in, the door’s locks slammed closed, securing it. We walked down the drab white hallway you would find in any normal office all over the world except for the lack of windows.

  We moved to the double doors at the end of the hallway and Doc entered yet another code into it and opened it. We walked into a cavernous room that was equal to two football fields. The expense the company went through had to have been very substantial to dig this thing out. When I had been shown this place by Will, he had explained that it was originally an old Air Force base that was never really used. The brothers got the whole shebang for pennies. Doc and I found most of our two teams including the Allen brothers standing around a big eighty-five-inch OLED TV watching a news cast. We had the ability to switch satellites thanks to our communication’s technical weenie Tony Blakk.

  Seven out of ten members of my team where there, spread out on couches watching the TV. Doc’s team, including his leader were all there. They were busy stripping and maintaining their weapons. The Allen brothers stepped out of their shared office and came toward us.

  “Good to see you guys,” Will reached out and took us into his long arms and gave us a quick hug.

  “Any idea what the fuck is going on out there?” M.C. asked in his deep Texas twang.

  “Glad you are all here, I got one hell of a story for you. Get everyone in the conference room and I will brief everyone at once on what I know.”

  M.C. turned around and in a full-throated roar yelled, “Everyone get off your asses and into the conference room.”

  The team members moved quickly filing into the conference room just off the common room. Doc and I moved into the kitchen and grabbed some bottled water. We made it into the conference room and took our places. I let Doc go first telling his story. He recounted how he had been on the road on his way to the bunker when a flying ship attacked his truck.

  When it was my turn I reached over and took M.C.’s glass of whiskey, he was friends with a small distillery in Madras Oregon called New Basin. He was a big drinker of their Strong American light whiskey. I tossed it back and drank the entire thing in one gulp, calming my nerves. I slowly went through my story explaining everything in as much detail as I could remember. When I finished the entire room was as quiet as a crypt. I took my time meeting the eye of every man and woman. M.C. tapped my shoulder and handed me a tumbler with his whiskey neat. I nodded my thanks and took a sip. I then opened the floor to questions.

  “So, let me get this straight, we are being invaded by Body Snatchers from another realm?” an older man with a silver flat top sitting in the back of the room asked. I nodded in the affirmative. “And you say, that this Quashay, is a dissident, and is helping you retrieve Kell?”

  “I know it sounds fantastical, but it is all true,” I explained.

  A woman’s brown hand raised into the air. “Apache.” I called upon her.

  She swiveled in her chair and placed her bare feet on the table. “So, what do you want to do about this?”

  “You guys can do whatever you want, but I am going to arm up and go back to my ranch. Then I am going to start planning a guerilla war on the Collectivus.”

  The room broke out into shouting matches as everyone tried to speak at once. M.C. crossed his arms and waited a moment letting everyone argue before he slid two fingers into his mouth and whistled as loud as he could. That whistle would’ve alerted a dozen cabs if he had been standing on a corner in New York. Instead though his whistle broke up all arguments as everyone turned in their chairs giving M.C. their full attention.

  “We have always been an employee ran company, where we make decisions as a family. If we disagree on a potential contract with an unethical or nefarious group, we turn it down no matter how lucrative it could be. In front of us we have no contract.”

  Will pulled out a little book from the inside of his jacket and threw it on the table. “Except this one,” on the book in large bold words it said Constitution of the United States of America. “We all took an oath to protect and defend it as well as the people it represents when we joined our country’s military. Dan has told us an incredible story. You may be not ready to accept it or believe it, but Dan was promoted to head team leader by consensus between my brother and me. We trust him, and more to the fact, we stand behind every decision he makes. If he told me that the Pope was alien and we should kill him, I’d be the first to kit up and help him storm the Vatican,” he let his words sit heavy on the men and women gathered in the room.

  A beautiful woman with warm light chocolate brown skin stood and gazed around the room with her steely gray eyes. “We have all followed Dan through hell more than once. I for one will continue to follow him,” she turned to me and winked. “I will follow you once again brother.”

  I blushed a little. Apache and I had a turbulent relationship since day one of our meeting. I am not proud of the fact that we almost had a love affair, but we had connected in ways that even Kell and I had not connected. Apache had also been wounded in battle; she also lost a leg below the knee. If I thought I was a badass since losing mine I was wrong, that woman moved as if she had never lost it.

  As Apache sat down the oldest man at the table stood. He reminded me of the actor Stephen Lang. He wore a silver hair flat top, a square jaw covered in stubble and shoulders wider than mine. He always seemed ready to walk through walls and pull people apart all while smiling with his trademark cigar firmly clenched between his teeth. He stared at me for a hard minute before speaking.

  “Son, just point us in the direction of the enemy and let us do our thing.” He looked around the room and dared for anyone to
disagree with him.

  Heads bobbed in agreement around the table. I felt pride burst in my chest knowing my brothers and sisters would have my back.

  “Now that we are done blowing each other. What’s the plan?” the grumbling bored voice came from Butch Barth. He had been an elite SEAL and when forced into early retirement joined up with Malleus and brought most of his men with him. They were the third team, one who rarely came into the office, they preferred to run out of a biker bar called Shellbacks, twenty miles down the road near our private airport.

  I turned to find Butch and Chun, the leaders of their team leaning against the door as they snuck in. “Did you bring the rest of your men?” I asked.

  “Yeah, even Hootie. I thought about leaving him behind, but every time he gets bored, he tends to blow shit up.” Butch answered.

  “Did you guys have any problems coming in?”

  “We got fired upon by some weird plane. They learned quickly not to fuck with us. Hashkeh put a SAM up their ass.”

  “We don’t have any SAMs,” M.C. turned and regarded Butch.

  “Did I say SAM? I meant he shook his dick at them.” Butch and M.C. stared at each other for a bit before breaking into nervous laughter.

  “Let’s do this the smart way. Break open the weapons locker, Team three and one kit up and follow me. Team two stay here and protect the facility. I am going to send back families as we come across them. This place might become a little packed, also we are gonna need more supplies. Kuppers I am leaving the logistics up to you and the brothers. Any questions?” I looked around the table.

  “Why am I being benched?” Doc asked.

  “Because you are going to lead the supply hits and protect the facility. Got it?” I answered gruffly.

  “Right you need the best fighter in here to round the wagons up and protect the kinfolk. Got it.” Doc blew a big pink gum bubble.

  I led the way out of the room with the two teams following closely behind. I stopped at the weapons locker and put my thumb on the sensor and waited as M.C. came up and placed his on the other sensor. A soft tone sounded, and the door popped open an inch. I grabbed the big round bank vault like wheel and pulled the door open. Inside was every gun nut’s dream, racks and racks of classics, new, and prototype weapons of all calibers. Another door sat at the end of the room. M.C. and I made our way over a second door and repeated the security procedures and added passwords. That door slid open exposing another vast room filled with thousands and thousands of rounds of every caliber. Including Grenades, mortar shells, rockets, and yes portable SAMs. I was always blown away by the number of weapons we had. I used to joke we could run our own war if pushed. And yet here we were, about to fight a war.

  “Okay load up on whatever you can carry comfortably. I suggest we go light; we can always send someone back to resupply us. We will use my place as a forward operating base. I have some good defenses and a cache of weapons and ammo.”

  Over the next hour my teams kitted up and were chomping at the bit to move on. M.C., our fearless leader was also kitted up, but he chose older gear he had worn last he served. It looked tight in certain places, but I would raze him later about it. I guess he thought he was coming with us. I looked over my people as they stood around ready like the professionals they were. I had never worked with Butch and Chun’s team before but had read their portfolios. They had been a black SpecOps team that were called upon when no one else could get the job done. They would get the job done no matter what. My team were all trained by me. I knew they could hold their own in any situation and I would trust my life to any one of them.

  My team consisted of my second in command, Apache, yes, she was a real Apache Indian. She was a mad tracker and could outfight almost any man or woman alive. My mechanic and driver was a six-foot swarthy ex Polish Army reject nicknamed Cupcake. He could fix and drive anything, as well as being a pain in the ass. My heavy weapons experts were identical twins brothers. Howser and Hunter, they enjoyed making things go boom. They always had a plan and the know how to topple any building they saw. I also had my assassin, and yes, every team has one, or needs one. Her name is Kot, ex-Russian spy and KGB operative. She fashioned herself after her mother, a notorious assassin during the cold war. She was devastatingly gorgeous and could speak eight languages. She could’ve gone into contract killing and made millions, but she preferred to fight on the side of right. She liked the way our company considered itself family. The last person on my team was the most dangerous, Heaven. In his early life he was a Jesuit priest, but as he was exposed to the real world, he came to believe he could do more for God by being his avenging angel. He was soft spoken and always had a ready smile or word of wisdom when I needed it. What he did on the battlefield was scary though. I once saw him take on ten ISIS soldiers with nothing but an eighteen-inch Nepalese Kukri curved sword. When all was done, he had turned every fighter into nothing but ribbons of torn flesh.

  “We can take vehicles, but I suggest only overland travel, stay off the roads and main freeways. Cupcake what do you have for us?”

  Cupcake was busy cleaning the oil from under his nails with his Kabar knife when I called on him. He stopped what he was doing and gave me a broad smile. “We can take the Rhino.”

  “I thought it was trashed on that mission in Columbian last year,” Apache looked skeptic.

  “Only minor damage, I fixed it and added extra armor, and beefed up the suspension and engine.”

  “Minor damage? She took numerous RPG strikes.”

  Cupcake rolled his eyes as he answered her, “Like I said, minor damage. The Rhino is a true beast. I would bet my life on her any day.” His Polish accent became thicker when he was pushed or became excited.

  The “Rhino” was purchased from the Department of Defense (DOD) as surplus from “Operation Iraqi Freedom” days. The “Rhino Runner” as it was affectionately called, was originally used by the State Department to transport personnel from the Republican Palace on the Tigris river to the Baghdad airport. The Palace was just one of Saddam’s many palaces and was used for several years as the Embassy. Rhino Runner’s name was very appropriate and was protected with 2” bullet proof glass and even thicker steel plating.

  “Okay team go load up in the Rhino. I will be up in a minute.” I turned to Chun and Butch. “How are you and your team going to travel to my ranch?”

  Chun grinned like a hungry shark. “Don’t worry about it, we will be waiting for you when you get there.”

  I shook my head in exasperation. “Just do me a favor and hold off attacking these things unless you have no other choice.”

  “No promises, but if they leave me alone, I might let them live a little longer.” Chun patted my back hard and walked away with his scary looking hard men behind him. I was so relieved to have them on our side.

  I grabbed M.C. by his drag strap on the back of his old school flack-jacket and dragged him toward the stairs. We climbed the steps and emerged into the interior of the red barn. Sitting in the middle was a flat green SUV which had once resembled a Chevy Suburban. It sat on huge puncture proof tires, jacked up to almost monster truck specifications. Cupcake opened the driver’s door and hung out, a big shit eating grin on his face.

  “Need a step ladder boss?”

  I moved over to the round bars that served as running boards and jumped up onto it. I opened the front passenger door and climbed in as Heaven helped M.C. into the roomy back seat. Gone were the normal rear bench seats and in its place were seats mounted against the SUV body. A hatch sat in the roof as access for a heavy gunner. In the middle of the space laid weapon hardcases and a small pallet of ammo. I turned to Cupcake and twirled my finger in the air as a sign to get going. He pushed the ignition button and a deep throaty sound of the powerful turbo diesel growled under the hood. We drove out of the barn and I explained the route I took to get here. Cupcake nodded at me and smiled as he powered through the fields and over creeks. The Rhino handled every obstacle in our way as though the
ground was flat and paved. I busied myself looking out the windows looking for the enemy.

  “Contact two o’clock up high,” called out Hunter.

  “Cupcake into that creek and under the trees now.”

  Cupcake followed my directions to the letter and soon we were under the protection of the trees. I just hoped the Collectivus didn’t have the infrared technology they had on their rifles on their aircraft. Or at the least, I hoped they weren’t looking in our direction. It turned out that I was too optimistic as the answer came soon when the craft stopped over us and hovered.

  “Shit!” I pounded the dashboard.

  Cupcake looked over to the spot I had pounded on, disgust written on his face. “You mind not hitting my baby?”

  I growled something about his mother and a donkey in Polish back at him. “We have been sitting here for a little while, I don’t think they can attack us while we are under cover, or they are vectoring ground forces to us.”

  “So, let’s not be here when they get here.” Cupcake put his Rhino into gear and pushed down on the gas pedal. The Rhino growled deep and shot forward following the creek staying under cover of the trees. We bounced over boulders, pushed down small trees and left deep ruts in the mud and dirt in our path.

  I turned in my seat and was surveying the trail we were leaving behind us. Nothing seemed to be following us. Again, I was too optimistic. Cupcake pounded on my shoulder bringing me around. Out the front of our windshield loomed ahead of us what looked like light tanks. Something looked wrong about them though. The design was nothing of this Earth though. I tried to roll down my window when I caught Cupcake giving me an odd look.

  “What are you doing idiota? These windows do not roll down, they are fixed for blast protection and their thickness.”

  I pushed out of my seat and into the back. I snatched a foot-long tube off the ground and popped the hatch above and pulled my upper body outside. The tracked vehicles started firing blue bolts of energy at us, missing as Cupcake threw us around the creek evading their fire. I extended the tube and popped up the sighting reticle. I looked down until I saw the tracked vehicle on the right. Just as I was going to fire Cupcake moved us to the right. I yelled down the hatch, “Keep this Goddamn thing straight asshole!” Suddenly we jerked back and for an instant I had a perfect shot. I pushed down on the trigger and a small rocket zipped out of the tube in a puff of smoke. It flew straight and true and exploded high on what I hoped was thinner armor. When the smoke cleared a huge hole appeared in the tracked vehicle. Something hit my leg and I looked down to find another LAW being handed to me.