Up From The Deep Vaughn Jackson (book club suggestions TXT) 📖

“Caine, tell your men to please board the helicopters in a quick and orderly fashion.  There is enough room.”

“Grant us immunity.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Give your word as a soldier of this nation that we will both board and disembark your crafts as free men.”

Greenwood frowned. Is now really the time for this? “I can’t promise that.”

“That is unacceptable,” Caine said in his same robotic tone.

“I mean to say that I can’t make that call. It would be up to General MacPherson.”

“Communicate our wish to her.”

Greenwood wanted to scream. A nuclear bomb would be turning this place to ash within the next ten minutes, and this man wanted to bargain with her. I could leave you. I could leave all of you, and I wouldn’t lose an ounce of sleep over it. She knew that was a lie. She’d never forgive herself. “Is the general still on that line?” she asked the pilot.

“Yes ma’am.”

Greenwood clicked over. “General, there’s a minor…snag,” she said.

“That bomb will hit in ten minutes,” she snapped, “this better be important.”

“There are soldiers here that follow the escaped prisoner, Kurtis. They assisted our mission and—”

“Get them onboard and out of harm’s way.”

“That’s the snag. They won’t board without guaranteed immunity.” Greenwood listened to the static that filled the silence on the other end of the communication line.

“Grant it.” MacPherson’s voice was pure ice. Greenwood couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of it. “And get out of there.”

“Ma’am.”

Caine stared at her expectantly, his red lenses never wavering in their focus on her face. “The conclusion?”

“Granted. Now move your asses,” Greenwood said.

Caine nodded. He pressed a button on the side of his helmet. “Phantasms. Abandon your posts and board the helicopters. Our duty here is done.” Immediately, and at once, all of the black clad soldiers ceased their actions and set a quick pace towards the four choppers. Two minutes later and everyone had boarded. Seconds ago, the missile had entered radar range. Time was running short.

“Get us out of here, now,” Greenwood barked into the comm channel.

The helicopter lurched upward. Rising slowly while also beginning to cruise in the forward direction. Within seconds they were above the tops of the toppled buildings and zooming through the air. Greenwood fidgeted in her seat.

#

Even facing the other way, the flash of light from the bomb was nearly blinding. Every sound was muted at first, rising from a low rumble to a thunderous crack, like a mountain splitting in half. The force of the explosion itself started as light turbulence before turning into a powerful concussive force, knocking the helicopter off its axis. Greenwood felt her stomach drop to the floor, her fear of heights returning in spectacular fashion. The only thing that kept her from screaming was the rush of pressure forcing all of the air out of her lungs. She saw the other helicopters from her squad, who left several minutes before hers, in the distance. They made it out of the bomb’s range in time.

The helicopter spiraled out of control while the pilot wrestled with the controls. “I’m not going to be able to stabilize,” he said. “We’re going down.”

“Can you still get us out of the blast radius?”

“I have no control. The radiation blew most of the controls.”

“What’s our distance?”

“We should be out of the severe damage zone, given our initial speed.”

“Then put us down as gently as you can.”

The pilot raised an eyebrow behind his aviator sunglasses. “I’ll do what I can.”

Greenwood clamored her way into her seat and strapped in. Tight. She used the helicopter’s PA system. “We are crashing. On impact, we need to make double time to the nearest structurally sound building. If there’s a basement, get there as fast as you can, otherwise gather as close to the center as possible.”

“About that building,” the pilot said, “brace for impact.”

Greenwood looked up just in time to see the bank fill the front windshield of the helicopter. She bent her head forward and ground her heels into the floor until the bottom of her feet hurt. The impact slammed her back in her seat. The screech of metal cut through the air as the propellers caught in the concrete supports of the building and wrenched themselves off the top of the helicopter, tearing the top of the craft off with the sudden stop. G-force caught Greenwood off guard, slamming her back into the seat and holding her there until she felt like her lungs would pop. The pressure released and she gasped for breath as the helicopter skidded to a stop in the center of the building. Greenwood unfastened her seatbelt and turned to the pilot, only to see that a chunk of the rotary blade had lodged itself through the front of his head and out the back of the seat’s headrest. Blood painted the wall behind him a red splatter. She pulled his dog tags from his neck and shoved them in her pocket.

The headset didn’t work, but she heard the sounds of movement from the passenger section of the helicopter. She opened the door and saw that the soldiers, hers and the ex-Tempest soldiers, were already going through the process of assessing the dead, while assisting the living or injured. She counted seven bodies slumped in their seats, unmoving.

“Everyone out,” she shouted, “head to the vaults.” She knew they had maybe two minutes before the rest of the nuclear bomb effects caught up with them. “Go. Go!”

They hadn’t made it even halfway when the true force of the explosion hit the building, knocking them all to the floor. It felt like the worst earthquake she’d ever experienced. The noise burned its way down to her ear drums. The building screamed, that was the only way to describe it. The building screamed as it was battered and burned by the tiny sun that just exploded near the horizon, and Greenwood wondered if she was screaming too.

Chapter 20

“The EMP effect has cut communications, General Macpherson. Three helicopters are confirmed to