Read Online Opposing Force: Book 01 - The God Particle by Anthony Decosmo - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anthony Decosmo
Ads: Link
two strolled together.
"I must admit," Thunder said as they walked, "I'm not exactly sure why your team was sent here."
He played the game: "Task Force Archangel is a Department of Defense red team. We are penetration testers used for security assessments and war gaming."
"Major Gant, your file was sent to me directly from General Friez, and I'm not talking about the file that is distributed to senate subcommittees or listed on a balance sheet as part of the Defense Department's budget allocations."
Her tone made it quite clear she knew exactly who he was and what he was all about.
"I see."
She led him inside to a dusty reception area. A clerk’s desk covered the front door but looked as if it had been unattended for years. Hallways led away from the lobby, one of which was blocked by another, smaller desk where a soldier in green BDUs sat. Obviously this was the one passage that led to anywhere of significance.
Lieutenant Colonel Thunder said, "I’m aware of Task Force Archangel and your team’s, well, specialty. Yes, you are an opposing force, but not in the traditional war gaming sense. Several years ago during a different assignment I did the psych evaluations on everyone in your unit, from Campion to Westbrook."
They approached the desk. She motioned for him to sign in. As he wrote his name he told her, "Westbrook was KIA over a year ago."
"Oh," she mumbled and added, "I didn't see that in the file."
Acidic sarcasm sizzled in his words as he replied, "Casualty reports are considered superfluous when it comes to our mission reports."
She handed him an identification card.
"We’ll need to take your photo, but for now this will get you as far as you need to go. At least for today."
She led him around the desk and down the hall. Every step echoed ahead and behind, adding to Gant's feeling that the two of them and the guard at the desk might be the only ones on the floor.
"Not too many people home right now?" He asked.
"There’s never anyone home here, Major. This upper level is completely abandoned, except for security."
They passed several dark rooms, a few of which looked like haphazard storage depots for dusty old boxes, discarded furniture, and piles of files. Gant had the distinct feeling of being in a house on moving day, except moving day was on perpetual hold. Everything boxed up but no place to go.
At the end of the hall waited a secure elevator. She slid her access key card through the lock. A light buzzed green and allowed her to lift a small glass panel under which was a solitary red button that she pushed. It glowed, and the sound of a rising car vibrated through the metal doors.
She opened her mouth, thought for a moment, and then said, "Major …Thom?"
He sighed and replied, "Rest assured, Colonel, I have heard every possible joke."
"I'm sure."
Gant asked, "How many sublevels are there?"
"Hmmmm," she considered. "That depends on what you mean."
"I thought the question was rather straightforward," he said with no attempt to hide his annoyance at her acting coy.
The elevator door slid open.
"I suppose I would say there are four-and-a-half sublevels."
Gant huffed, "Four-and-a-half?"
"Yes," she said as they entered the elevator car, and she pressed the only button on the console. The door slid shut and their descent began. "Yes, although there are eight sublevels in all."
He cocked his head to the side and forced a smile that was anything but friendly. He did not like games, particularly when he flew blind into a new situation and dealt with people he did not know.
As was normally the case, the more annoyed he grew, the more stilted his speech, so when he asked, "Did someone misplace the other levels?" it came out less like a sentence and more as six individual words.
She folded her arms, glanced toward the ceiling as if thinking it over, and replied, "Now that you mention it, maybe they are misplaced. Perhaps the best description is to say we control four-and-a-half
"I must admit," Thunder said as they walked, "I'm not exactly sure why your team was sent here."
He played the game: "Task Force Archangel is a Department of Defense red team. We are penetration testers used for security assessments and war gaming."
"Major Gant, your file was sent to me directly from General Friez, and I'm not talking about the file that is distributed to senate subcommittees or listed on a balance sheet as part of the Defense Department's budget allocations."
Her tone made it quite clear she knew exactly who he was and what he was all about.
"I see."
She led him inside to a dusty reception area. A clerk’s desk covered the front door but looked as if it had been unattended for years. Hallways led away from the lobby, one of which was blocked by another, smaller desk where a soldier in green BDUs sat. Obviously this was the one passage that led to anywhere of significance.
Lieutenant Colonel Thunder said, "I’m aware of Task Force Archangel and your team’s, well, specialty. Yes, you are an opposing force, but not in the traditional war gaming sense. Several years ago during a different assignment I did the psych evaluations on everyone in your unit, from Campion to Westbrook."
They approached the desk. She motioned for him to sign in. As he wrote his name he told her, "Westbrook was KIA over a year ago."
"Oh," she mumbled and added, "I didn't see that in the file."
Acidic sarcasm sizzled in his words as he replied, "Casualty reports are considered superfluous when it comes to our mission reports."
She handed him an identification card.
"We’ll need to take your photo, but for now this will get you as far as you need to go. At least for today."
She led him around the desk and down the hall. Every step echoed ahead and behind, adding to Gant's feeling that the two of them and the guard at the desk might be the only ones on the floor.
"Not too many people home right now?" He asked.
"There’s never anyone home here, Major. This upper level is completely abandoned, except for security."
They passed several dark rooms, a few of which looked like haphazard storage depots for dusty old boxes, discarded furniture, and piles of files. Gant had the distinct feeling of being in a house on moving day, except moving day was on perpetual hold. Everything boxed up but no place to go.
At the end of the hall waited a secure elevator. She slid her access key card through the lock. A light buzzed green and allowed her to lift a small glass panel under which was a solitary red button that she pushed. It glowed, and the sound of a rising car vibrated through the metal doors.
She opened her mouth, thought for a moment, and then said, "Major …Thom?"
He sighed and replied, "Rest assured, Colonel, I have heard every possible joke."
"I'm sure."
Gant asked, "How many sublevels are there?"
"Hmmmm," she considered. "That depends on what you mean."
"I thought the question was rather straightforward," he said with no attempt to hide his annoyance at her acting coy.
The elevator door slid open.
"I suppose I would say there are four-and-a-half sublevels."
Gant huffed, "Four-and-a-half?"
"Yes," she said as they entered the elevator car, and she pressed the only button on the console. The door slid shut and their descent began. "Yes, although there are eight sublevels in all."
He cocked his head to the side and forced a smile that was anything but friendly. He did not like games, particularly when he flew blind into a new situation and dealt with people he did not know.
As was normally the case, the more annoyed he grew, the more stilted his speech, so when he asked, "Did someone misplace the other levels?" it came out less like a sentence and more as six individual words.
She folded her arms, glanced toward the ceiling as if thinking it over, and replied, "Now that you mention it, maybe they are misplaced. Perhaps the best description is to say we control four-and-a-half
Similar Books
