Chapter 02: Military Compound

I continued along in the direction of the original boot print I'd discovered near the jungle's edge, and it led me to others. When I realized how easy the trail was to follow, the hairs on the back of my neck jumped to attention. There were two possibilities. First, the man I pursued wasn't expecting trouble and didn't care to cover his tracks. This was far more preferable to the second option; he knew I was here and intended on leading me into a trap.

I dealt with the second possibility by circling around, coming back to the tracks from a different angle, as well as withdrawing temporarily and waiting to see if anyone watching might reveal their presence.

It took almost half an hour to reach the end of the trail of prints. My extra level of caution had doubled the time required, but I felt it had been a worthwhile sacrifice. If I'd been captured or killed, the loss of a few minutes would've paled in comparison. The tracks led straight through the front gate of an eight foot tall chain link fence topped by razor wire. The fence surrounded a military compound nestled discreetly in the heart of the jungle.

Built inside the fence was a single, large building of pale gray concrete. An exhaust pipe twelve feet from the main structure told me there was a considerable part of the building below ground. It was impossible to tell how large the subterranean facility might be. It could have very easily measured larger than the island itself.

My earlier caution paid off when I noticed six guards walking a careful patrol beyond the fencing of the compound. They wore the abstract brown, green, and black of jungle camouflage along with black military boots. Their faces were darkened by stripes of paint to help them blend in more convincingly with their environment. Fully automatic rifles were carried by the guards, and holstered sidearms provided a backup weapon should the need arise.

I crouched under a thick growth of ferns while observing the activity. I considered all the possible reasons for a base to be hidden on a jungle island far from prying eyes, and yet, it was still heavily guarded as if expecting an attack at any moment. There were too many variations for me to deduce their reasoning. I had only one option for discovering their intent; I had to go inside.

In order to prepare a proper approach, I required a better vantage point, but finding one was a tricky undertaking. It needed to have a sufficient view in order to see potential entry points of the base, such as low hanging tree branches that might allow me to circumvent the chain link fence, but knowing the patrol routes of all guards walking a post was also vital. The down side to such a location centered around a basic reality; if I could see the guards, they could see me. I required enough cover to stay hidden, yet not so much as to obscure my vision. A difficult matter, but I decided on the simplest solution.

When one of the patrolling guards passed my fern covered location, I lunged out and wrapped an arm around his neck, dragging him back into the bushes. The man's panic about being seized made him drop his gun, so I didn't have to worry about him firing shots in warning to his comrades. I held tightly, shushing the man quietly. The temptation to dispose of him with a sudden twist of his spinal column entered my mind, but I refrained from killing the guard. I had no knowledge of what occurred on this island, nor any way to discover if this man deserved death or if he was simply following orders with a wife and kids at home. Letting him live was a risk; if he awoke, an alarm could be sounded, but I felt it to be the best course until I had a better awareness of the situation.

After the lack of oxygen to his brain caused the guard to pass out, I lowered him quietly into the grass. He was nearly my size, so I removed his camouflage uniform, finding the face paint in one of his pockets. Doing the best I could manage without a mirror or other reflective surface, I applied a generous amount of the jungle pigments to my face and hair. His belt, supporting the holstered pistol, held an impressive combat knife. I took them both. The uniform was a little tight, but nothing too uncomfortable or hindering. Picking up the guard's rifle, I stepped out into the open.

I was perspiring, but not from stress or exertion. Situated deep in the jungle, the air around the base was sweltering. The thick barrier of trees on all sides blocked the cool ocean breeze. Although the palm trees provided maximum shade, the humidity was near ninety percent.

Calmly walking a post, I followed the same pattern as the guard I'd left unconscious in the bushes. None of the other soldiers seemed to notice me. While following my route, I examined the outpost's defenses in greater detail. It wasn't until my second circuit around the perimeter I discovered a brief hole in their security. When I reached the far end of the compound, there existed five seconds when all the other guards walking patrol either had their backs to me or had their line of sight blocked.

Waiting for the right moment, I jumped into the air, kicked off against the rough bark of a tree, and propelled myself up to a high branch. Pulling hard, I dragged myself into the tree top before anyone saw me. I waited in concealment for a few moments, seeing if anyone noticed my lofty perch or the absence of one guard on patrol.

When no one seemed disturbed or agitated, I waited again for the soldiers to face away from me before dropping down inside the fence. Rolling when I hit the ground, I minimized the sound I made to almost nothing.

I dashed toward the building, pressing up against the blistering structure. The concrete, heated by the sun, was hot to the touch, but I endured the searing pain. Being discovered or shot promised to be worse than minor burns.

After staying still for the few moments necessary for the guards to turn on their patrol routes, I slipped over to the door of the base and carefully tried the handle. The lever rotated like new, allowing me to open the door and stealthily duck inside.

The air conditioned environment of the base was a welcome relief from the oppressive heat and humidity outside, but I didn't let myself relax. If anything, the interior would be more dangerous than the outside. With narrow corridors, blind corners, and unknown work schedules of those inside, the chances of running into someone were extremely high. I seriously doubted my appropriated guard uniform would fool anyone up close.

Pushing aside the lurking dangers, I headed down a flight of metal steps to the next level. I knew I had to hurry. It was only a matter of time before the guard I incapacitated awoke and sounded the alarm. Adopting a brisk pace, I marched down the stairs at the quickest speed I could manage without drawing unwanted attention.

The stairs ended at a T junction, and identical hallways stretched out to my left and right. There were no signs or directional markings. I concluded it was for security purposes, not wanting to tell intruders like me which way they needed to go.

I took the right hand passage. The cinderblock walls were painted hospital white, and every ten paces, a white metal door with a narrow window at eye level offered access to another room. I glanced through the windows in passing, wanting to see inside, but not desiring to be noticed staring into the rooms.

Each compartment had the appearance of a place for surgical procedures. A metal table six feet in length was centered in the room, and a smaller one covered in surgical implements stood near one end of the longer table. Red stained the knives, scalpels, and other tools residing on the small work tables. The blood splatters on the white walls seemed even darker against the bright surfaces. I couldn't determine if they were operating rooms or places for butchering animals. I continued walking briskly, trying to suppress the shiver down my spine the place was trying to give me.

The door at the end of the passage opened into a spacious but dark office. It looked as if no one was home. I tried the handle, and it opened. Checking the hall to be sure no one was watching, I went in.

The lone desk held few items of relevance, and I made short work of sifting through the few things stored within. A computer, very old from the look of it, sat on a corner of the desk, but it was password protected. I left the computer alone for the moment and concentrated on the closet behind the desk.

When I opened the door, I discovered two filing cabinets five drawers high. They were secured with a lock, but I removed a pair of paper clips from the desk and set about opening it. Folding one clip into the proper shape for a tension wrench, I inserted it at the lowest part of the keyhole, putting a minor amount of pressure on it to keep the tumblers up when I adjusted them.

I pulled the second paperclip straight by holding part of it in my teeth while bending the remaining wire out. Once a single end had been separated from the clip and pointed outward, I inserted it into the lock. Gentle persuasion with the tumblers pushed each one up and out of the way, so I might reach the ones behind it. When the last tumbler was removed, the improvised tension wrench lost all resistance and turned slightly. Applying steady pressure, I rotated the lock until it opened.

I pocketed the clips for future use and began inspecting the files. Sheets of white paper were stacked neatly inside tan file folders. White adhesive labels typed with a few letters of description were attached to the tab of each folder for organization purposes. I opened a few of the files, scanning the information before moving on to the next.

Most of the data contained in the drawer seemed of little importance, merely the day to day paperwork required for running any large operation efficiently. Switching drawers, I looked over the next set of folders. One by one, I checked all the drawers in the first cabinet, but nothing stood out as significant.

The second cabinet of drawers was mounted in the same housing as the first, so only the one bypassed lock protected them both. Not needing to pick a second lock, I started examining the files immediately.

According to the first page, in comparison with the wall calendar hanging beside the file cabinet, the base had been established ten years ago by the United States government. Originally intended as an observation post, the base was equipped with long range sonar for detecting any ships passing within a thousand miles of the island. A schematic behind the first page showed the locations of the sensors and the cabling connecting it to the facility.

Wanting a better look, I pulled the folder out of the drawer and set it on top of the cabinet. The papers rustled softly as I turned them over, checking every detail of the operations carried out here. The last page brought up many questions. It was the final report of the base commander, explaining how funds were being allocated elsewhere, and the base, no longer of vital importance, was being closed down. The date in the corner of the report was for last year.

I closed the folder and replaced it in the drawer. It seemed the underground facility was being run illegally. It had to be by someone connected to the United States government. They would need to know the facility was here, and not too many would have knowledge of a secret spy base. Further, they'd need to know it had been abandoned and was available for use without the risk of anyone showing up and discovering the new tenants.

Switching to the next drawer down, I found scientific records unrelated to the base's original function as an observation post. I pulled out the first folder and opened it on top of the cabinet. The documents detailed work on an enhancement serum. Early testing had produced unsatisfactory results.

The next page told of the test subjects used in the project. Each person injected with the serum had manifested unusual abilities. Telekinesis, telepathy, increased speed, phenomenal strength, and near limitless endurance were a few of the more normal items I found, but others were truly bizarre. One man could spew fire from his mouth like a dragon, while another had the power to throw lightning. According to the files, the serum had unpredictable responses in each case. It appeared as if the people running the facility were looking for a way to control the random effects of the serum into a more direct and concentrated form.

As I returned the file, boots marched down the hall toward the office. My hand went instinctively to the knife at my side. When the person went past, I remained still a moment longer, waiting to be sure the individual didn't suddenly turn around and come in. When certain of not being discovered, I relaxed slightly.

Digging through the folders of test subjects, I found one more relevant than any other because it had my face. A photo of me was secured with a paperclip to a sheet of medical reports indicating height, weight, eye and hair color, and current physical condition. I scanned the paper for a name, but the space had been redacted, a solid line of black obscuring whatever had been typed underneath.

"Figures," I muttered.