Darklife.

I would like to start a thriller/si fi story here involving some basic charictars and hopfully a twisting and turning plot, it should be fun and I hope I have provided a good enough platform. I can't wait to see where this one goes.

The air was crisp and cool as agent Alan Forrester steeped of his front porch, he anticipated the early morning drive into Langley that awaited him. Checking to make sure all of his effects were in tow, he got into his vehicle and pulled it out of the drive, completely unaware that this would be anything but a normal day at the office within his lonely world as a CIA analyst. Placing his cell phone to his ear he addressed the other party, “ Good morning! What’s on the roster for today”?

In a small room the specialized lights hummed with a slow pulsing barely audible, accompanied by their main characteristic, that being their operation within the invisible spectrums. Humidity constantly controlled and kept at precise levels. The room, windowless and possessing but one entrance, a biologically sealed sally port was monitored for all aspects of environment including temperature. This was all 20-year veteran of Security Services International Frank Howell knew as he took his post every day amidst a array of monitors, his only assignment…to place a phone call should anything change even in the slightest.

“Coffee Alan”? Patricia Slovak asked as he walked past her office, “sorry Pat I don’t have time this morning but maybe lunch” The cafeteria inside the Central Intelligence Agency was Alan’s choice for entertaining colleagues because he could use his “work” as an excuse when he tired of the company. “Cafeteria”? “About 1- ish”? “Sure”. Pat replied as the Blur of Alan’s dark sport coat disappeared beyond the border of her doorway. Alan never took her up on a coffee offer, besides being happily married he despised Pat’s constant attempts to “get him to loosen up” and “let go” “why does she care anyway”? He thought to himself as he rounded the corner approaching the entrance to his post. A discreet smile was quickly erased…“she is easy on the eyes I must admit”

Reaching his workstation Alan noticed the familiar burgundy file folders that he was so accustomed to greeting him every morning. Alan reached over picking the first on up as he sat down, 000k811, the header read: Metabolic activities of cave dwelling, culturable, microbial organisms.

Spencer Tennessee. DR. Ann Steinbrenner had just finished donning the remainder of her protective gear and seizing an opportunity for further exploration into a recently discovered vein 10 miles into “Big Bone” cave she proceeded into the darkness, turning on the fully charged headlamps and checking her communication equipment… “Radio check” she muttered “copy DR. You’re clear on this end” a voice replied. After several hundred feet the cave took a sharp turn exposing a large section of blasted away earth, walking through the exposed gap Ann looked down into a seemingly bottomless abyss, the ROV control panel was set up adjacent to the water filled void, Ann sat down continuing where she had left off only hours prior she was too excited for sleep and couldn’t wait to collect more samples.

The control panel was simple, one monitor for the video “eye” of the ROV and one monitor for the various gauges including depth,angle,pressure,ambilical length remaining ect ect. Below was a multi function control stick, which Ann was very familiar with. The ROV, on loan from an undisclosed company responded to the slight touch of the stick and whizzed into a decent, it’s flood lamps illuminated the swallowing blackness that lay ahead. Ann checked he depth gauge “ One mile to contact” she voiced over the radio, “copy proceed to target location DR”. “You got it” she replied as she pressed the stick forward. All gauges looked good and the ROV was operating within optimal range. “Nothing on visual yet” “I’ll let you guy’s know when the little swimmer reaches the site”. “Remember DR, this is not a treasure hunt we need the samples alive find as many colonies as you can and get them back topside ASAP”!

Frank Howell was shocked when he received the phone call, “Frank expect some visitors this evening” his boss had stated, “they’re going to be checking the equipment and entering that room understood”? “Yes sir, completely will there be anything else”? “Ugh Frank I…never mind just see to it you don’t disturb them”. The line went dead. 9 miles away a man dressed in black BDU’s exited the office of Byron Chambers director of Security services International tucking a silenced Walther PPK into his rear waistline.

Alan picked up the phone on his desk and dialed home, “hello”? “Hi baby” he said hearing the lovely voice of his wife on the other end. “How’s the next Forrester holding up”? “Oh he’s fine Alan” she replied placing her hand softly on her just slightly extended stomach. “I bet he can’t wait to meet his wonderful daddy” “And momma”? “I’m feeling great today, in fact I might join some of the girls from the office for lunch” she said cradling the phone with her shoulder. “Good sweetheart, sounds great just enjoy the freedom while you can I’ll see you when I get home”. “Alan I love you” “I love you too sweetheart” he replied before setting down the handset, Sighing at the file folders that seemed to drown out the top of his desk.

The exterior monitor showed two black SUV’s heading up the dirt road that lead to the security gate, “this must be them” Frank thought as he zoomed in on the first vehicle as it pulled up to the intercom box. “We’re here to conduct tests in secure containment” “yes sir” Frank replied as he pressed the gate release button “please proceed, I’ll meet you gentleman in the security corridor, just use your card key to access the main entrance followed by your code” “we’ll see you soon” the driver replied as he pulled a card key from his jacket pocket. “Thank you Mr. Chambers” he mumbled as he pulled forward next producing a folded up piece of paper with blood spattered across it… the numbers 2278 written on it.

“Touchdown at target site, everything’s looking good on the panel,” Dr. Ann stated while hovering the ROV above a series of slight indentations on the bottom of the massive water filled section of the cave. Collecting the samples was simple; Ann just turned off the ROV’s lights and switched to infrared, the ground “illuminated “ in patches about 7 or 8 inches in diameter, the soil was collected using a mechanical arm and collection tube and placed in a special pressurized container on the ROV then returned to the sub station where it was collected for transport topside, it’s whereabouts after that were unknown to DR. Steinbrenner her employer was adamant about the secrecy of this project.

The security corridor of the building was a long hallway connected to a sealed room just outside the small containment room. Frank walked the length careful to make sure his uniform was straight. The “process log” was a sealed steel container used for any entrance into the containment room, it rested under Frank’s right arm just above his holstered Taurus .357.He looked up at the outer door monitor as 8 men approached, 4 were in dark suits and 4 had on some kind of “space suits” Frank thought to himself as he smiled. The key card panel lit up 4 green lights, “now just the code gentleman” Frank spoke into the monitor, seconds later the door released. “How are you sir”? Frank said in his most “official” sounding tone. “We’re great thanks, are you the only guard on duty”? The lead man said as he began to enter. “Yes sir, just me. One more man we work 12’s”. Frank replied as he led the group down the hallway and into the security room. “We need to be sure the security protocols remain in effect” the man stated as he slid the key card into the “process log” “of course” Frank replied. “We’ll let my men work while we wait in the secure corridor,” he said as the protective suited men approached the outer door to the containment room. “Just a thumb print on the digital process log from you… Frank than my men can begin”. “Sir” Frank acknowledged as he pressed his thumb on the pad.

Frank led the group out to the hallway trying his best to think of something to talk about, he wanted to ask about what exactly was in that room but he knew his policy and didn’t want anything bad getting to his boss, 20 years of impeccable conduct was after all the reason he was chosen for this assignment. Moments latter the security room door opened and the four “astronauts” as Frank liked to think of them appeared, all carried small metal cylinders, Frank didn’t recall them going in with them “ fellas I was not told you would be taking anything out of the facility”… as he turned to address the lead man he saw two flashes before his world went dark, the men exited one tucking a silenced Walther PPK into a shoulder holster.

Frank Howell lay face-down on the floor of the security room , small rivers
of blood flowing out from under his body. He was by no means dead, but
he was having trouble ordering his body to turn over, . . for some reason
it just wouldn't respond. With a mighty effort he flopped over finally onto
his back and began to assess his situation. He'd been shot twice but only
one round had done any damage, it had gone right through his upper
shoulder and had exited just behind the back of his neck. His body armor
had stopped the second round, but he would have a huge black and blue
mark to show for it in a day or two.
Using the heels of his shoes, he pushed himself towards the wall, where
the emergency alarm button that had never been used, awaited its first
test. With his one good arm he rolled and hit the button all in one motion,
sounding the alarm and automatically sealing all rooms and hallways
leading to the containment area.
Outside, the silence was suddenly broken by loud blares.

The four sealed canisters roughly the size of soup cans sat in their protective cases, removed form the secure containment room. The lead SUV rumbled down an unpaved access road, the driver placed a cell phone call and seconds latter a concealed door opened on the hillside revealing a secure entrance. Cameras followed the eight men as they exited the vehicles and proceeded through a set of barricades into a waiting train. All of the men seemed to be attempting to come to terms with the sheer gravity of events that would come to pass as a direct result of their actions, all knowing full well that they would wealthy men far, far away from any danger.

The train was completely silent as it lurched away from the boarding area, coming up to speed in seconds seemingly propelled by some unseen force, the men knew this train well but not well enough to know that in the short amount of time they sat, their destination lay thousands of miles from the point of origin. Windowless and sterile the mag- lev train carried its precious cargo through secret tunnels; the financier eagerly awaited its arrival.

Headquarters for the Security Services International was normally abuzz with activity and with it’s sheer volume of high end clientele the director didn’t often want to be bothered, but on this day administrative assistant Wendy Shelby felt extremely confidant as carried the silver coffee service for one into Director Chamber’s suite. As the door opened Wendy’s confidence turned to sheer terror as she surveyed the scene before her letting loose to the ground the reason for her visit, a shrill scream flooded the hallway.

Byron Chambers had phoned him earlier, so Frank made sure his first call
went directly to the top, to the boss.

Wendy Shelby had just finished her terrifying scream and was trying to figure out who to call first . . . when the telephone rang harshly, scaring
her to action. She ran over and picked up the phone, careful not to touch
Mr. Chambers' body, and asked "Hello?"

"Wendy, Frank here, put me through to Bud quickly, will you ?"

"Frank I can't, he's . . . he's dead Frank, he's dead ! I'm in his office right
now and it looks like he's been beaten and shot. Jesus Frank ,what do I
do ? Who do I call ?"

Frank slumped against the wall, unable to fathom what was going on.
"Bud" Chambers dead ? The boss, dead ? The samples stolen from the
containment room ? Security breached ? . . . Yeah, a big-time security
breach ! Damn !
"Wendy ?"
"Yes Frank ?"
"Wendy, call Bob Stevens at home and tell him to get his ass over to
Buds' office immediately, okay ? " "Do you hear me Wendy? Call Bob
right now ! "And don't let anybody else in until he gets there, okay ?"
"Alright Frank, I'll call Bob right now."
"Good Wendy, and have him call me at the site as soon as he can. We've
got a problem here. A damn big problem ! "

He hung up the phone and went to get some help.

The tunnels were technically non-existent. Rumors about them abounded,
but proof had never surfaced. And the train, magnetically propelled, was
a work of art unknown to the general public.
Cameras had followed the eight individuals from the moment they left the
SUVs and boarded the train, and cameras still watched as they rode
silently back to the laboratory. And Dr. Kline watched the cameras.
Watched them very closely. This was, after all, his operation. He'd spent a
small fortune trying to get that precious cargo away from Security
Services International (SSI) and by god it was almost over.

But . . . there was still one more thing he had to do. One more thing that
had to be taken care of.

As he watched the cameras he leaned over and flipped a small silver
switch. Immediately the train began to slow, and then come to a stop. He
flipped another switch, a red one this time, and what appeared to be a gas
of some kind began to fill the inside of the traincar. The cameras watched
as the eight men struggled for breath at the same time, clutching their
throats and clawing at the locked doors. The cameras watched until there
was no more movement of any kind within the traincar.

Alan Forrester picked up file folder 000k811 and began to read briefs on
microbial organisms . . of all things and at this time in the morning! He
scanned through most of the information quickly . . until he got to the part
about hybridization. He was suddenly picturing these little proteobacteria
swimming around in a deep pool located way back in some cave some-
where, slowly mutating and becoming nucleotide probes, capable of swift
degradation of marine environmental fuel supplies ! Jesus ! No wonder
this folder was labeled "Top Secret"! Imagine the global repercussions if
some unfriendly country out there got ahold of these damn things. They
could put the future of marine oil exploration and development right out of
business ! Worldwide shortages could create havoc ! Maybe . . war !

File 000k811 also told him that some of these organisms had been
isolated and collected, and were presently in high-security lock-up at a
trusted holding facility.

"If people ever knew", he said quietly to himself, as the phone rang.

Outside the Security services International building the street was alive with emergency vehicles, the building had been emptied and all employees were acounted for...all except one, Wendy Shelby who was at best, still in severe shock from the sight of her dead boss as she drove her company vehicle in the direction of frank. "oh god Frank hang in there" she said outloud as the Lincolon towncar's engine roared. "I'm coming Frank, I'm coming".

DR.Kline's voice rang through the earpiece belonging to the lead member of the "extraction team" "I want my containers captin" "Yes doctor we've verified the railcar clear and are entering now" "good" the doctor replyed "make certain our friends are well taken care of" DR. Kline barked as he sat down in front of a computer monitor, the screen displaying an encrypted swiss bank homepage...read: Transfer complete.

The vault that awaited the DR's precious canisters was tantamount to the successful hybridization of the organisms, it's construction had been the brainchild of the employer he answered to, completly automated once the sequence began, it would produce a bio weapon, the likes of wich the world had never imagined.

Bob Stevens had arrived at SSI thirty minutes ago, and his gut instincts
told him that the death of "Bud" Chambers was not a typical homicide in
any way, shape, or form. The man had been beaten senseless, probably
tortured as well. Somebody must've wanted something from him pretty
bad to hurt him as badly as this. And to top in off, he'd been shot in such
a way that his execution it seemed, had been the primary mission all
along.
Bob sealed off the whole office floor and let the investigators do their
thing. He called Frank Howell. Frank let him know about the security breach
at the containment compound and instructed him to call an unlisted
number, tell whoever answered what had happened, and wait for an
answer.
Bob wasn't too surprised to find out that the number was a direct line to
a CIA analysts' desk.

Allan Forrester . . . answered.

Spencer, TN. - Dr. Ann Steinbrenner again called Control. "Did you
copy my last, over?" Static.

Static . . . . . . static . . . . . static . . . . . .static . . .

The messages were not getting through ! Jesus !

" . . . .aaaarrrrggggggggggg your last, over ! "

"Control, we have a major problem here, over ?" "Control ?"

"iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiwwwwwwwwwssssssssssssiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii "

Ann wondered what the hell they would do once they did get the
message. Shut down the operation ? Close Big Bone Cave ?

She wondered if she had time to get out !