05/10/02 - 0800 hours

Malory entered the mess the next morning and immediately signaled for McNeely as Corky sauntered away to grab a tray for breakfast.

"Commander," McNeely said, gesturing for her to step aside with him.

She followed him to an isolated corner, bracing for news that she knew she didn't want to hear.

"There are six people missing and they don't respond to radio calls."

"What the fuck?" she hissed. "Why wasn't I informed immediately?"

"I only found out a few minutes ago and I didn't want to start a panic."

She reigned in a fit of temper. "Who?"

"Jones and Gregory from the kitchen staff. Danforth, Garret, Blair, and Laroux."

"Who else knows?"

"People are beginning to suspect but for now just me, you, and Alvarez."

"Who's on the doors?"

"Reynolds and Ring."

"Get them back here now," she ordered and then yelled out. "Get situated in the middle of the room, we've got trouble."

McNeely barked into his radio to order the men back.

"What's going on, Commander?" Clovis asked.

"Gather in the middle of the room and stay away from the doors."

"Reynolds and Ring coming in," McNeely yelled out in warning and a second later they burst into the room.

"Pull some of the appliances out of the kitchen to block the east door, move it people!" she barked. "DeSoto, Hanson, you're outside the west door, go!"

The men scrambled into a flurry of activity, most of them running into the kitchen.

"Once the door is blockaded, everyone move to that side of the room."

"Commander," Lenard said. "Everyone isn't here yet."

"Everyone not present is now part of the problem," she stated, stepping to the side as some of the men struggled by with an enormous stainless steel freezer.

Once they had the east door effectively blockaded, she checked her rifle. "Those with flame units hang back. Those with rifles concentrate on the head and legs, Understood?"

A chorus of affirmatives. "Soldiers on me."

They gathered around her quickly. "Chief, were the doors breached?"

"No," he said. "There wasn't a sound all night."

"Did we miss something? How the hell did they get in?"

A group shrug and she sighed. "We're going to have to clear it again and figure it out people. If they walked through the door right now, I'm not sure we could drop seven of the things."

"Commander," McNeely said. "I suggest we recruit some more guns."

She released a long breath. "Any objections?"

"I don't think we have a choice," Ring said.

She spared a quick glance at everyone. "Very well," she said, turning around to face the huddled civilians. "Who among you knows how to handle a weapon? We have a situation and it might come down to firepower."

"I can," Clovis said, rising to his feet and joined by several others.

She nodded and turned back to McNeely. "What do we have for them?"

"Nothing unless I can get to the armory."

"We need to do that first then," she said. "Alright, we need to…"

"Incoming!" DeSoto warned from the hallway.

"Chief, you're inside with Butler!" she yelled as she dashed for the hall.

She burst through the doors to see DeSoto already on one knee and aiming down the hall where three figures almost thirty yards away ambled drunkenly towards them. "Form a line!" she ordered and dropped down next to DeSoto. "Start on the right and stay on target until it drops!"

The men crowded into the small hallway, kneeling and standing shoulder to shoulder. "Fire at will," she said and the deafening roar of gunfire surrounded them.

Blair almost disintegrated under the firepower directed at him and he fell to the floor stiffly, his bodily remains still quivering in the effort to continue forward.

Magazines fell to the floor and weapons were hastily reloaded as the distance between them and their enemies began to rapidly diminish. Malory dropped her empty shotgun and reached around to unsling her rifle, hurriedly taking aim and firing short three-shot bursts. Even with half of his head torn away, Danforth moved forward resolutely. His body flying away unnoticed in bloody chunks.

Finally he dropped, leaving only Gregory who was almost completely untouched and at an alarmingly close range.

Malory inserted a fresh magazine and stood. "Fall back!" she yelled, taking careful aim at the depressingly young body that had once belonged to the quiet and unassuming Gregory.

The men hurriedly retreated into the mess and Malory suddenly found herself alone and three body lengths away from the advancing creature. Her finger moved to depress the trigger but paused when Gregory stopped and stood unmoving in the middle of the hall. He lifted his hands to his mouth and jerked down savagely, completely unhinging his jaw with a gruesome splintering of bone.

Malory didn't hesitate and emptied her rifle into the man's face, neck, and chest. The assault of bullets only succeeded in knocking Gregory back a stutter-step and he turned a hellishly ruined-featured stare in her direction, abruptly lunging forward with his arms outstretched.

She dropped her rifle and turned to run into the mess, a scream dying in her throat. Her body barely a hairsbreadth across the threshold when Reynolds threw his weight into the door, barely missing her as the door met a fleshy and unyielding resistance and she was seized by an impossibly strong grip in her hair.

McNeely lunged forward to add his strength to the effort. "Get on the fuckin' door!"

All of Malory's forward momentum was stopped by the power of the grip and she was ripped backwards, colliding with the half-open door painfully.

Alvarez leapt forward with a lightning fast draw of his knife and brought it down, cutting off a large chunk of her ponytail to free her. Malory staggered forward with the abruptness of her liberty and turned to put her strength against the door.

Seeing the dilemma, Clovis let go of a frantically struggling Corky and ran forward with a roar. He lumbered powerfully across the room and utilizing all of his considerable strength, collided into both the startled soldiers and the door.

The force of his arrival slammed the door closed with a sickening crack as one of Gregory's arms was crushed and almost severed in the doorframe. Blood filled the doorframe like glue and Gregory's fingers twitched madly as the crushed limb dangled from the precarious tissue still exerting a hold on the appendage.

"The door won't hold!" Reynolds said.

"Back up," Malory ordered. "Form another firing line!"

The words were no sooner out of her mouth when the door crashed open with stunning force, scattering the soldiers and Clovis in all directions. The edge of the door caught Malory on the side of her face and knocked her several feet backward to land painfully on her back. She groggily rolled over and brought herself to her knees, drawing her pistol.

"Malory!" Corky screamed.

The sound barely registered as she was yanked into the air by the scruff of her neck, catching sight of an evilly unnatural mouth filled with grotesquely gyrating worms descending upon her. She screamed and desperately thrust the barrel of her pistol into Gregory's surviving eye. The bullet splattered brain matter on the wall behind him and the grip holding her aloft was suddenly released. She fell to the floor and collapsed to her knees, dimly aware of McNeely running forward to grab her by the shoulders.

He started to pull her away but Gregory's wildly flailing arm caught him in the chest and propelled him into the air, dropping him with a grunt of pain several feet away. Malory was struggling to get to her feet when the swing that had dispatched McNeely returned to catch her in the side. The blow lifted her off her feet and sent her smashing into a table halfway across the room, where she lay motionless.

Another scream from Corky and she wrenched free of the men holding her, racing over to her fallen lover.

Alvarez rushed into the hall to retrieve Malory's discarded shotgun and walked back into the room loading it. He approached the blind and still thrashing Gregory from behind, coming to just within arms reach and shouldering the weapon. The blast removed what was left of Gregory's head and he followed the shot with two more to the back of his knees, dropping the twitching body to the floor.

"Burn it, Hanson!" he ordered. "Terrel, get the ones in the hall. Everyone still standing find something to block the door with when he gets back, move!"

Corky frantically rolled Malory over and checked for a pulse, tears of relief filling her eyes when she found it strong and steady. She was in the process of searching out any obvious injuries when blue eyes fluttered open.

"Is…is everybody okay?" Malory croaked.

The threatening tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. "I think so."

"Hey," Malory whispered. "I'm alright."

"You better be."

"I just needed a little nap," Malory said with a grin. "Now help me up, we got things to do."

"Okay," Corky said, wiping at her eyes.

Malory got to her feet and winced, knowing that she had broken or at the very least bruised some ribs. She shook it off and smiled for Corky's benefit, squeezing the hand in hers tightly before turning to assess the situation.

Evidently, she was the last person to regain her feet and the men were busily working to block the door. She turned a look at the broken table that had borne the brunt of her impact and spotted her gun on the floor several feet away. Not caring if anyone might be watching, she released Corky's hand and leaned over to peck her on the cheek.

"We're gonna be okay," she said and ambled over to pick up her pistol.

Twenty minutes later, Malory gingerly sipped at a cup of coffee and surveyed the prison they had created for themselves. She had pointedly ignored everyone since obtaining her java and the men had only just finished shoring up the doors to their satisfaction. A task she personally thought was a waste of time; if they wanted in, they were gonna get in and a confrontation within the small confines of the mess hall was a prelude to disaster.

She shot a glance over her shoulder at Corky, who was going about the task of getting what food she could ready for consumption. Not that anyone had much of an appetite after witnessing Gregory's bloody demise firsthand, yet she realized that the doctor was coping with things in her own way. A smile came to her face as Corky stuck an experimental finger into her concoction and brought it to her mouth, nodding slightly in satisfaction. Suddenly, the situation became intensely personal and a grim purpose fought for air. It was a feeling she had only experienced once before and she recognized it for what it was; resolve.

She rose to her feet and spared a long glance at all the people depending on her leadership. It was do or die time.

"Everyone gather around," she commanded, waiting patiently for them to congregate and taking Corky's hand when she came out of the kitchen. "We can't stay here. You all saw what just one of those things did. We're sitting ducks and I'm not going to sit here and play with myself until one of those things decides to make a meal out of me. We have to make some choices."

"What choices do we have, Commander?" Lenard asked.

"There's only one," she said. "We flush them out and destroy them. I won't order anyone to come with me but that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Where do we start, skipper?" Alvarez said. "I'm with you and I believe I speak for everyone in uniform."

"Here, here," McNeely chimed in.

"I'm with you," Clovis said.

Every head in the room began to nod.

"It looks like we all are," Lenard observed.

"Alright," she said. "What do we have in the armory, Mr. McNeely?"

"Standard compliment of M16's and 1911's. About six Benelli M1's and a thousand rounds for each weapon minus what we've already used."

"Nothing heavier?"

"Afraid not," he said. "This is a scientific outpost. The flame units, which we have about a dozen of, are only present because they're excellent for creating tunnels in the ice. We have plenty of fuel for them and some small explosives. That's it."

She hummed. "Lemme hear some opinions."

"I think we need to find out how the hell they got in here," Reynolds said. "As strong as they are, they're not strong enough to break the seals on the fire doors. There has to be something we missed."

"I suggest that we reestablish the perimeter once we determine how they got in," Alvarez said. "Then I recommend we travel as a group, rifles up front, shotguns in reserve for close work and flame units to finish. Fire teams in front and behind."

"I have no objections to any of that, skipper," McNeely said. "But if we can manage to reestablish a perimeter we still have to count on them getting in sooner or later."

"I agree," Ring chimed in.

"Alright," Malory said. "First trip is to the armory so we can get everybody packin'. Then we inspect the quarters of those dead or missing from last night, I'd be willing to bet those rooms can tell us how they got in. Once that's done, I intend to hunt them down. Anyone disagree?"

She looked around. "Good, because it wasn't up for debate. Let's get it together, I don't want to be caught in here. Stock up on the C-rations, gear up and clear one of the doors."

Corky squeezed her hand and she turned to her curiously. "I'm coming too, right?"

"You're not getting out of my sight."

Malory stood in the hall outside of Laroux's quarters with her shotgun at the ready, her army of armed civilians standing by behind her. They had proceeded to the armory without incident and had cleared all of the rooms to Laroux's thus far.

McNeely and Alvarez had point and stood on either side of the door; waiting for her signal. She nodded and waited tensely as McNeely pushed open the door and fell back to a cover position as Alvarez dropped to a knee in the open doorway. After a careful inspection, he entered slowly only to emerge a handful of seconds later.

"Clear," he said. "Laroux is dinner scraps. No sign of Garret."

Malory sighed, slightly ashamed that it was a sigh of relief. One meal meant one less enemy. "Was Garret his bunkmate for the night?"

"Yeah," McNeely confirmed, curiously peering into the room. "We need the Chief up here."

"Alright," Malory agreed. "Alvarez relieve him and send him up front."

Alvarez nodded and began making his way through the crowd gathered in the narrow hall towards the rear.

"What's up?" Malory asked, reluctant to look inside of the room. Viewing Ballenger's remains had been enough to witness.

"They came in through the floor."

"Huh?"

"There are service tunnels under the complex that contain heating ducts, electrical cables, network cable, and so forth," McNeely explained. "They used those tunnels to get in."

Malory closed her eyes as the information sank in. They could be anywhere, including the places they'd already searched. "Jesus, where are the access points?"

"I only know of the one outside of Operations, the Chief will know," McNeely said. "Here he comes," he added as Reynolds came forward.

Malory turned to him immediately. "Chief, where are the access points to the service tunnels?"

He looked at her in sudden understanding. "Shit," he exclaimed. "One outside of Operations, one in Receiving, and another in Mechanical."

"Can they be sealed?"

"Yeah, they seal with a vacuum door a few yards after the access point."

"Why didn't they close when the complex went into lockdown?"

"They should have," Reynolds said with a shake of his head. "I can only assume they were propped open."

"Did we do that?"

"No way."

"Would they seal automatically if the prop was removed after lockdown?"

"No," Reynolds replied. "After the computer verifies lockdown it won't send any further commands until it is rescinded."

"Why didn't the computer tell us the damn doors were still open down there?"

"It should have. I can only assume that whoever kept them from closing, blocked the sensors on the lock mechanism. It's the only way I know to fool it."

"So someone was down there when the command was given and was smart enough to block the sensors?" she asked unbelievingly.

"That would be my guess," he admitted. "Or someone knows a trick I don't."

Malory chewed on that in dismay. "Alright, where would the safest point in the complex be that is not vulnerable to entry through use of the service tunnels?" she asked, suddenly feeling terribly exposed.

"The lab," Reynolds said. "All heat and power is routed in from overhead. The service tunnel is cut off from entry to that area by another vacuum door. The door itself is permanently sealed. Only you can open it via computer command."

"Then lets roll," she said. "That's the only safe place in the entire compound right now."

"Commander," McNeely said. "The lab is huge, it'll take some time to clear it."

"Do we have another option at this time?"

McNeely considered. "No."

"Then let's go there directly," Malory said. "Chief, you're on point with the Sergeant Major.

"Aye, skipper."

"But first," she added. "Hanson, burn what's left of Laroux."

Hanson nodded grimly and stepped forward, illuminating the hall as he sprayed fire into the room.

The going was excruciatingly slow as every door they encountered was treated as a potential threat and they darted two at a time past each one. They made no overtures to conduct a search effort and traveled grimly toward their destination. Finally, as their objective came into sight, movement became quicker as all hoped to get behind the relative safety of the laboratory's pressure door.

Within twenty-five yards of the entrance, Malory had begun to harbor the small hope that they would arrive unscathed. A hope that vanished as the floor suddenly rushed up in the middle of their party, immediately dropping two men into the tunnel below. The pit in the floor creating two groups, one in front and one behind. The screams started from below instantly.

"Leave them, we can't help!" Malory yelled. "We're running for it, everyone over as fast you can!"

Those trapped on the other side didn't ask questions and took several steps back, initiating a running start to propel them over the four-foot gap in the floor.

"Sergeant, Chief, form a firing line in front of the lab!" Malory ordered, darting around the running bodies and grabbing Corky's frightened hand.

"Stay with me," she said quietly and began pulling her down the hall toward the assembling men.

McNeely started barking orders to get everyone positioned and Malory ran toward him with Corky in tow, turning a quick look behind her to see Isaaks seized in midair from the tunnel below. His face crashing grotesquely into the edge of the floor with a grisly thud that left behind teeth and blood before he disappeared into the tunnel.

His fate went almost unnoticed as the remainder of the men jumped across the void without hesitation and ran forward. As Alvarez passed her and joined the firing line, she released Corky's hand and dropped to one knee.

"McNeely, clear the lab. Use as many as you need to get it done as quickly as possible," she ordered. "Everyone else shore up and hold the hall."

McNeely turned at once and slapped several men on the shoulder to follow him and within seconds, a deadly quiet descended upon the hall.

"What do we do, Commander?" Watkins muttered nervously.

"Keep your shit together and blast anything that moves until McNeely gives us the go ahead to enter the lab," Malory replied.

The sound of nervous breathing and restless fidgeting were the only things to be heard for the next twenty minutes. Malory's eyes vigilantly scanning the hall down the barrel of her rifle and trying very hard not linger on the teeth scattered indiscriminately on the floor a dozen yards away. A hand touched her shoulder and it took every once of willpower she had not to scream and rain gunfire down the hallway.

Corky felt the body under her hand tense powerfully and she squeezed Malory's shoulder reassuringly. "Easy," she whispered and Malory relaxed slowly.

"Commander," Clovis whispered. "If we get into the lab, I need to talk to you."

Malory just nodded, afraid to glance away from the hall for even a second.

Her concentration was so intense that she periodically had to wipe the sweat away from her eyes with her shirtsleeve and she felt the beginnings of a powerful headache. Finally, as she began to believe she had spent a year of her life rooted to the same spot, McNeely called out.

"Lab is clear," he said. "Move!"

Organized chaos ensued as everyone scrambled to get inside and Malory breathed a long sigh of relief as the pressure door was sealed behind her.

"Commander," Clovis said.

She turned to him tiredly. "What is it, Mr. Stokes?"

"We need to change the entry code on that door immediately," he said. "I don't think we can take the chance that it might not be remembered."

Malory closed her eyes. "Who knows it?"

"Everyone but you most likely."

"Why is that?"

"Because you're the only one who never comes in here," he explained. "Everyone else knows it, it's common knowledge."

She sighed. "How do we change it?"

"Has to be done by computer, I'm sure the Chief knows."

Reynolds overheard. "He's right, skipper," he said. "I'll get on it right now," he added, slinging his rifle and ambling over to the nearest computer.

She followed him. "McNeely, Ring, and Alvarez join us, please."

When they had all gathered around Reynolds she spoke softly. "Can you change the codes on all the doors, Chief?"

"Yes."

"Do it, make them all the same," she ordered. "The five of us are going to be the only ones with the new code. If one of us falls it needs to be changed again. Who else knows how to do this, Chief?"

"Only myself and DeSoto."

"Very well."

"How do you suggest we proceed from here, skipper?" McNeely asked.

Malory took a deep breath and fell into a nearby chair. "Obviously, we need to clear the service tunnels and seal the pressure doors or we can't clear the ground we've already covered."

"Only one person at a time can fit down there," Reynolds pointed out. "Unless we travel through them single file."

"I kinda figured," Malory said.

McNeely scrutinized her intensely. "No way."

"We don't have a choice, Sergeant," she said. "We can't survive in here until summer."

"I agree. But you're not going to be the one going down there," he said. "We'll draw straws."

"Rank hath it privileges," she said. "And unfortunately, it also has its responsibilities."

"No."

"Sergeant," she rumbled. "I'll admit your dick is bigger than mine, but this isn't your call."

"I'll do it," Alvarez interjected.

Malory's eyes tracked to the formidable Tech Sergeant. "Your offer is gratefully acknowledged, Mr. Alvarez. But I won't allow it."

"May I speak freely?" he asked.

"Sure."

"Neither you or the Sergeant Major can be spared. You two are the only ones capable of bringing the complex out of lockdown. Lieutenant Ring can't do it because he's our only pilot and the Chief can't be chosen because his knowledge of the facility is too valuable to lose. And honestly, I'm probably the only one who stands a modest chance of surviving. I spent my previous two tours with Special Operations."

Malory studied him thoughtfully. "All good points," she conceded. "But you're not going to change my mind."

"Commander," he continued. "Your survival is paramount. In addition, you are physically the weakest among us and the most injured. I've seen you try to hide it from Dr. Rivers but you took a hell of shot in the ribs this morning. You'll have to stoop to maneuver in the service tunnels and even crawl in certain areas. Your injury will only hinder your ability to act in the event of a confrontation. Not to mention, you risk further injury to yourself by attempting to negotiate the terrain down there."

"Mr. Alvarez…"

"Let me also point out that if you die down there, you'll kill the woman behind me who has been afraid to take her eyes off of you since this began."

She stood angrily from her seat. "That's not only extremely manipulative but way out of line."

He stood his ground. "It's also true, Commander."

She opened her mouth, taking a deep breath to get some steam behind her tirade.

"He's right, Commander," McNeely cut her off. "On all counts."

She slowly closed her mouth and studied the men silently for a moment. "I'll let you know in the morning," she said finally. "At that time, I'll brook no further argument. Regardless of my decision. Right now, I could use some rest."

They nodded silently and she began to walk away.

"Commander," Reynolds said. "The entry codes have been changed, you'll need to memorize the number."

She stopped and turned to view the monitor, committing the code to memory. "Thank you, Chief. Let's keep everybody close to the door for the evening. Just in case."

"Understood," McNeely answered and she walked off slowly in Corky's direction.

Corky was leaning against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest; Malory noted the brown eyes watching her attentively.

"Hey," she said with a grin as she approached.

"Hey," Corky replied quietly and Malory slid down the wall to take a seat next to her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Corky said, reaching out a hand to pet the back of her head. "Your beautiful hair."

"Huh?" Malory asked, bringing a hand up to check and finding the stub of a ponytail. "Shit," she said, pulling the useless band out. "How bad does it look?"

Corky grinned and studied the now shoulder length hair. "Kinda cute actually."

"Really?"

Corky ruffled it playfully. "You look great."

Malory eyed her suspiciously.

"Really, it looks good," Corky soothed.

Malory shrugged. "I guess I'd rather lose a hunk of hair than my ass."

"Your hair will grow back if you don't like it," Corky said and then whispered. "But I want that ass to remain where it is. It looks good on you."

Malory smiled slyly. "It does?"

"Uh huh. I'd like to see it right about now."

Malory beamed. "As much as I would love to indulge you, I'm afraid our situation isn't as private as I would prefer," she said with a look around, noting more than one face watching them curiously.

Corky giggled. "I suppose that would ruin your command image."

Malory chuckled. "Pretty much," she agreed and winced.

The grimace didn't escape notice. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Corky didn't buy it and glared at her stubbornly until she reddened guiltily. "Take a deep breath for me."

Malory sucked in a gulp of air and blew it out with a triumphant smile. Corky's eyes narrowed and her hand darted forward to probe her side, receiving a sharp hiss of pain for her effort.

McNeely had been watching them for the last few minutes and turned to his comrades. "Hey, fellas," he said. "Check this out," he added with a gesture in Malory's direction.

Four sets of eyes covertly studied the ensuing scene, watching as the little doctor began to quietly scold the guilty looking Commander; eventually rising to her feet and pointing authoritatively to an adjoining room. Malory offered what was apparently an unacceptable response and the doctor bent over to pull her to her feet, again pointing to the next room. Shoulders slumping, Malory sighed and turned to walk through the door Corky had indicated.

McNeely chuckled as the women disappeared. "Looks like someone outranks her."

"I'll be damned," Reynolds said. "Are they together?"

"Yeah," McNeely admitted.

Ring grunted. "I was wondering what was going on with them."

"Who gives a shit?" Alvarez said. "I'd follow her orders to the Gates of Hell."

"You might have to do just that," McNeely said.

II

Corky pointed to a table and turned to lock the door. "Take a seat and strip off that shirt."

Malory did as she was told, sitting down on the metal worktable and pulling her sweatshirt over her head. Corky gasped from the door and rushed forward.

"Jesus, Malory," she said, eyeing the massive purple-yellow bruise covering most of her side. "Lift your arm."

Malory raised an arm in the air and tried not to wince as Corky gently probed her side, failing twice and receiving extra attention in that area.

"Take a deep breath."

"I can't."

Corky sighed. "Oh, baby. Just take a big breath and hold it for me. This might hurt a little."

Malory nodded and did as she was asked, grimacing as Corky pressed a hand against her in examination.

Corky dropped her hand. "They're not broken but I wouldn't be surprised if they weren't cracked," she said with a measure of relief. "I'll need to wrap them."

Malory blew out a puff of air. "Well, that's good news."

Corky frowned at her. "No, it isn't. You're all beat up and I don't like it one bit. One side of your face looks like someone hit you with a hockey stick, you've got cracked ribs and are minus a foot of hair."

Malory brought a hand up to her hair self-consciously. "I thought you said it looked good."

Corky slapped her on the knee. "I can't believe you," she said, shaking her head. "Out of all that you're worried most about your hair? Don't be such a girl."

An indulgent smile. "I thought you liked girls?"

Corky rolled her eyes. "I do. But I love you and I don't like to see you hurt."

"I love you too, Corky."

"I was so scared for you today," she said in a small voice.

"Corky," Malory said softly. "I have to go outside in the morning."

Brown eyes looked at her sharply. "No."

"I have to."

"No, you don't!" she said in alarm. "You send someone else."

A sigh. "I can't send anyone else."

"No," Corky said, gearing up for combat. "You will send one of the other guys, you're not going," she added, stomping a foot for emphasis.

Malory reached out and grabbed her hands. "Corky, I have to go. I can't and I won't order anyone else to do it. Neither will I allow someone to go in my place."

Corky stared at her fearfully. "Then we'll stay in here until summer."

"We don't have enough food to last us the week and no matter how secure things are, these things are smart. They'll find a way in here by summer."

"Don't ask me to let you do this," Corky pleaded.

"I won't ask," Malory sighed. "Because it's going to happen anyway."

Corky's face crumbled and the tears started. "Please don't go."

Malory pulled her into her arms, embracing her tightly and ignoring the pain in her side. "It'll be okay," she whispered into her hair. "You'll see."

McNeely looked up when the women emerged from the other room, noting the doctor's puffy eyes and the Commander's look of sad resolution. He knew what it meant and he nudged the napping Alvarez who sat beside him.

"What's up?" he said, coming awake instantly.

"She's going."

Alvarez looked across the room and watched as the Commander took a seat against the wall and the doctor snuggled up to her desperately, burying her face in Malory's chest.

"I knew she would."

McNeely sighed. "I did too. Think she has a chance?"

Alvarez considered silently for a moment. "Better than average."

Corky slept fitfully, snapping awake several times just to make sure Malory was still in her embrace. Finally, she gave up trying to sleep altogether and just lay still in her lover's arms, listening to her heartbeat and soft breathing. She had tried frantically to get Malory to change her mind but it was all for naught. She had even considered throwing herself to the floor in the morning and pitching a fit but discarded it reluctantly, figuring Malory would just have someone drag her into the other room and lock her inside. The fear for both Malory and their situation was making her irrational.

She sighed and opened her eyes, slowly tracking around the room cluttered with sleeping men, her entire body growing ice cold as she met another pair of open eyes staring at her from the other side of the door. Her terrified scream echoed around the room alarmingly, jolting everyone awake instantly.

Malory went from a dead sleep to standing at a rigid attention in a nanosecond, her hands white on her shotgun, eyes flying around the room frantically. "What the fu…" she trailed off abruptly as she met Coy's hopelessly insane stare.

He was standing stock still as if in a trance on the opposite side of the transparent door, his broken jaw drooping hideously.

"He's alone, Commander," Alvarez said. "Let's let him in, we can finish him quick and it'll be one less to worry about," he added and received several nods of approval.

Malory nodded to agree. "Form a firing line," she ordered and the men scrambled to obey her.

"Love… craft," Coy's voice gurgled gruesomely, his devastated jaw slurring his pronunciation.

The entire room froze in their tracks, all eyes slowly turning in Coy's direction.

Malory squeezed Corky against her tightly, her grip on her lover steady to keep her hands from trembling. Not wanting to believe she had heard the thing speak.

"Love… craft," Coy repeated.

Feigning a confidence that she didn't feel in the slightest, she let go of Corky and stepped forward. "What can I do for you?" she asked, feeling proud of the question.

His eyes focused on her drunkenly, his jaw convulsing sickeningly. "Love… craft," he repeated stupidly.

"That would be me," she said impatiently. "What is it you want?"

"Only… for you…" he struggled and coughed a mouthful of worms onto the glass that separated them. "…For you… to…die."

Malory fought back a gag, only barely succeeding. "Why me?" she forced herself to ask.

"Without…you… no hope."

"There's always hope."

"Very… little hope… I assure… you."

Malory's heart skipped a beat and her face paled as the words struck a familiar cord, her brain jumping through hoops to remember where she had heard them. It came to her suddenly and scared her so bad she took an involuntary step backwards.

"Y… yes," Coy rasped. "We… know."

"Malory," Corky said, taking a step forward in concern.

Malory raised a hand to stop her. "What is it you know?"

"Everything," he said. "You will… die… soon."

"Will not happen."

"Someone… some…thing rules… in … his place."

Malory closed her eyes. "What the fuck was in that cube?"

Coy's head twitched violently to the side several times. "S…seventh … seal," he answered and turned to stagger stiffly into the hall, slowly disappearing from view.

Stunned silence reigned in his departure and Corky came forward to embrace Malory from behind.

"Commander," McNeely said finally. "You are not leaving this room. If you try, I'll have you subdued."

Malory turned an empty glance in his direction. "It doesn't matter, Doug."

"What doesn't matter?"

"Those… things, they know everything."

"What do you mean, Commander?" Lenard asked. "What was Coy talking about?"

"He was quoting Vincent Price from 'The Masque of the Red Death'."

"Why would he do that?" Watkins asked.

"I had a nightmare just before you found the cube, I was watching that movie at the time," she explained. "I was alone."

"What does that prove?" Lenard asked.

"He knew it scared me, just like he knew I was planning to go out and seal the tunnel doors in the morning. They know everything. They know what we're thinking, what we're feeling."

"Jesus," Hanson said slowly.

"Do you think he was telling the truth?" Daly asked nervously. "About the Seal?"

Malory shrugged. "Who knows?"

"What are we going to do, Commander?" Clovis asked.

"Survive."

"How do you propose we do that?" Watkins asked.

"By taking the fight to them."

"That's suicide, they can be anywhere," Watkins said.

"We either stay here and starve or we go on as planned," she said. "Either way, I'll bet my last dollar we're not as important to them as the rescue team would be."

"Why do you say that?" Lenard asked.

"They don't want to stay here anymore than we do," she answered. "They want to travel."

"Oh, my God," Corky gasped. "If even one of them reached a city..."

"We'd be fucked," McNeely finished for her.

"Commander, come take a look at this," Clovis requested from the door.

She padded over to join him, following his eyes to the clump of worms Coy had coughed up. "Unfortunately, I've seen them up close before, Mr. Stokes."

"They're dead," he said. "They're already decomposing."

Malory spared a closer look at the grisly pile on the other side of the door as Lenard and Tanaka came forward curiously. Tanaka dropped to his knees to get a better look and hummed thoughtfully for a long moment.

"It would be my guess that they can't survive for long without a host," he said finally.

"I'm inclined to concur," Lenard added.

"Well, now we have something new to think about," Malory said and took a deep breath. "Chief, if one was traveling from here in the service tunnels, which door is the quickest one to get to and get back?"

"Operations," he answered.

"And the farthest?"

"Receiving."

"I'll need one volunteer, the Chief, the Lieutenant, and the Sergeant Major excluded."

"That would be me, Commander," Alvarez said.

"You've already got a job, as do I. We need one more."

"I'll do it, skipper," Hanson said.

She nodded. "Lose the flame unit and gear up, you have Operations. Alvarez you're on Mechanical. I'll take Receiving."

"When are we leaving?" Alvarez asked.

"Five minutes"

She turned to place a kiss on the top of Corky's head, bending to whisper in her ear. "See you in a bit."

Corky smiled bravely. "You'd better come back, Commander."

Malory beamed her best smile and turned to the crowd. "When you get your door sealed, radio in to the Sergeant Major and then get back here as fast as you can. Chief, give us a flight plan."

Reynolds stepped forward. "I assume you'll be entering the tunnels from the entrance created yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Alright," he said. "It's a straight shot for about thirty to forty yards before you come upon an intersection, Operations will be to the left. The next intersection will be to the right and lead to Mechanical. From there the tunnel curves around to the left, eventually leading to Receiving."

"Alvarez, Hanson, any questions?" Malory asked.

"Got it," Alvarez said.

"No questions," Hanson replied.

"If you succeed and are able to head back, radio your status prior to arrival," she said. "You'll have to be able to get back in here with a reasonable degree of safety for the people inside. Understood?"

The men nodded to the affirmative and she walked over to don her gear.

"Commander," McNeely said. "A quick word in private, please?"

Malory gestured to the next room and followed after him.

"Your orders, in the event you do not return?" he asked as soon as the door closed behind her.

"One way or the other, Doug. I'll seal my door," Malory said. "If the other guys succeed, clear the complex. Then at the very least, you'll need to clear the area outside of the north door so you can either leave the facility at the first opportunity or admit reinforcements in the summer."

"And if things go south?"

"If that happens," Malory said. "I want you to do me a favor."

"Name it."

"First, you cannot allow a rescue to arrive without warning. As a last resort, get someone into Operations and get the dome cleared. Even if you have to take everyone with you."

He nodded. "And the rest?"

"The rest is personal," she whispered. "If the situation calls for it, I'd like you to put Corky down so she doesn't end up a meal, or worse yet, one of those things."

McNeely took a deep breath. "Malory, I don't…"

"Please, Doug," she interrupted softly, tears hanging on the precipice. "I can't bear the thought of her suffering like that."

He closed his eyes and quickly nodded.

Malory breathed a sigh of relief and brought a hand up to wipe at her eyes. "Don't let her see it coming, okay?"

Another nod and he extended a hand. "You watch your ass out there."

She took his grip with a smile. "You can count on that."

05/11/02 - 0510 hours

Malory walked back through the door, McNeely emerging a second after her. "We ready?" she asked and got nods from Alvarez and Hanson. "Let's blow this pop stand."

She let her best cocky smile fly at Corky and shot her wink, receiving an affectionate smile in response.

"Okay," she said, cocking her shotgun and inserting another round. "Open the door, I'll take point. Alvarez you got flank. Don't stop to smell the roses."

"Good luck, all," Clovis sounded off, prompting a round of well wishing.

Reynolds nodded and came forward to punch the code into the door, shooting a glance over his shoulder. "Ready?"

"Do it," Malory ordered, taking off at a run as soon as she had enough room, pounding through the foyer and into the hall.

The quick footsteps of Alvarez and Hanson echoed behind her and within seconds they approached the missing floor plates from the last attack. Taking a running start, she slid the last few feet on her knees and dropped headlong into the tunnel. It was a longer fall than anticipated and she landed on her hands and knees with a grunt. She rolled away quickly so the men following her had room to enter and found herself face to face with the ravaged corpse of Mark Isaaks, her hand and shotgun resting in the devastation of his chest cavity. She forcibly bit down on the impulse to squeal in disgust and rolled over him with closed eyes as Hanson dropped into the tunnel beside her.

She rose to her feet, having to bend over at the waist to keep her head from scraping the ceiling and leveled her gun down the hallway. As soon as Alvarez joined them and gave her a thumbs up, she proceeded forward as quickly as she could manage, eyes and ears strained for anything of import. Their anxious breathing and the sound of hurried footsteps in the ice seemed conspicuously audible.

Within minutes, she cautiously approached the first intersection and signaled the men to halt. Taking a deep breath and holding it, she rushed forward and leaped across the gap, coming to her knees and signaling it clear. Hanson nodded and gave a two-fingered salute before making his way down the adjoining tunnel alone. Alvarez motioned her forward and she turned to continue on, mentally wishing the young Sergeant well.

Ten minutes later, she did the same for Alvarez as the man disappeared toward his destination, finding herself suddenly alone and feeling terribly vulnerable. After a determined sigh, she was again on her way, her breath visible puffs of white as the cold inside the tunnel only added to the oppressive apprehension consuming her.

The tunnel began to veer off to the left and her gaze became even more agitated, the curvature in front of her slightly obstructing the path ahead. The ducting and conduits lining the wall that she wouldn't ordinarily notice took on a sinister appearance, obstacles to be avoided and she was afraid to let any part of her body brush against them.

A lifetime later, she spotted the door beckoning to her in the distance and she went stock still, afraid to let herself hope that she might actually succeed. The walls closed in on her as she hurried forward, her focus reduced to nothing but the objective in front of her. Twenty more yards and she could sprint back to safety. Soon it was fifteen yards and then ten.

Eight yards from her destination she screamed in both terror and surprise as the floor fell in on top of her. The scream cut off abruptly as the wind was forced from her by the obscene strength of the jolting grip that yanked her into the hallway above. Stars danced in front of her eyes as her face collided painfully against the wall, bloodying her nose with a crunch. She went limp in her captive's grip and found freedom as she sank to the floor. Her arms and neck burning abrasively from having her sweatshirt torn forcibly from her body, she rolled to the side, surprised to find the shotgun still in her hands.

Coy stared stupidly at the rag of her shirt dangling from his hand and turned to recapture his target.

The point blank blast from her shotgun severed his left leg from the knee down and he fell almost comically to the ground, his hands made no move to break the fall and his head hit the ground with the sound of a melon being split.

Malory followed the blast with two more quick shots to his face and neck, she would have fired a fourth but the impact from the rounds forced his body into the hole he had created in the floor and he disappeared from view. The sound of footsteps from behind brought her swinging around to see Percy lumbering up the hall from about twenty feet away.

Not wasting any time, she emptied the shotgun at Percy and dropped it to the floor. Instantly swinging the rifle around from her back and firing it down the hall until it locked open empty. The clatter of the magazine hitting the ground was quickly followed by the insertion of another and the loud clack of the bolt being snapped closed. Her finger depressed the trigger and a salvo of bullets tore into the ceiling as the floor panel she was kneeling on surged upwards, flinging her backwards down the hall. She fell into the hole she had emerged from, landing on her left shoulder with an audible crack and emitting an ear splitting scream of pain that echoed loudly off the walls.

The sudden grip around her ankle brought her back to the moment and she brought the rifle still strapped to her up with her right arm and took aim through tearing eyes. The bullets slammed into Coy's face, neck, and chest, tearing away flesh and splattering the ice walls haphazardly with blood and tissue. Worms began to drop in clumps from one side of his ruined head and Malory screamed again, frantically kicking away from him as his grip left her boot.

She scrambled wildly backwards and bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood when her back connected against something solid. Her head whipped around hysterically and she found herself against the frame of the pressure door. In a second of clarity, she knew she had no other option and hurriedly crawled through, pulling the door closed behind her. Her eyes catching a glimpse of Coy relentlessly pursuing her, using his arms to propel him forward, before the door closed with a satisfying electronic chime.

The tears started in earnest as she entered the code to seal it, effectively locking herself out of the central facility. She fell back against the wall and dropped the magazine from her rifle, digging another one out of her bandolier with her right hand and slapping it home. The agony radiating from her left shoulder was crippling and it sent waves of misery coursing through her when she tried to make a fist. A hand came up to wipe at her nose and she flinched in pain.

Angrily, she took stock of her situation. She had lost her shotgun, but still had her pistol and radio. Other than her rifle and the bandolier of magazines, she was dressed from the waist up in a pale blue bra, the sleeves of her missing sweatshirt gathered at her wrists. The bandage around her ribs that Corky had diligently applied the night before was missing and she suspected her nose was broken. She didn't even want to think about her shoulder.

It took a moment but it slowly dawned on her that she was still in possibly hostile territory and she considered the alternatives. The only place available that offered her a safe haven was Operations and that would require running across the cavernous room that housed the platform and down a long ice hallway, up two flights of metal stairs, another short hallway and the time it took to enter her code and seal the door. Then, if she managed to get there, she would find herself trapped in a small room with no food or water. Sadly, she realized that it was her only choice and she rose with a whimper to travel the few yards the led to the end of the tunnel.

She poked her head out cautiously and rapidly looked back and forth, finding it clear to emerge into Receiving. The wide-open space of the cavern allowed her the small and liberating feeling of having room to maneuver. It was a drastic change from the cramped confines of the tunnel and for a moment at least, she could look around and feel confident of her safety. The temperature here was much colder and uncomfortably emphasized by her lack of apparel as heat was only sparingly applied to this part of the compound to keep equipment from freezing over. Her eyes took in the long column that led to both the platform and the world above and she wished it were as simple as taking an elevator ride to escape. The distinctive outline of the helicopter rested silently on its skis and her gaze roamed over the room's other machinery slowly, reminding her eerily of a hastily abandoned ghost town.

A flicker of movement caught her eye and she froze, watching intently as Dr. Garret lurched slowly out from between several barrels of fuel. He was far enough away that she didn't feel immediately threatened, confident that she could outrun him. She shot a glance at the hall that led to Operations and began jogging towards it slowly, crossing the open space and keeping a wary eye on her pursuer. Her path widened as she approached the hall, keeping distance between her and the entrance in case it was providing refuge to anything she didn't want to encounter. Finding no sign of company, she glanced over her shoulder at Dr. Garret and found him teetering along at a rapidly alarming pace and closing the distance between them. She considered trying to slow him down or take a leg from him, but didn't have much confidence in aiming the rifle with one hand accurately. Shrugging it off, she jogged down the hallway, pausing at the foot of the stairs to shoot a glance behind her. Garret hadn't reached the hall yet and she suddenly remembered her radio, she let go of the rifle and pulled it from her belt.

"McNeely."

"Go ahead," he responded immediately, his relief evident.

"The door is sealed," she said, glancing up sharply as Garret appeared to pick up speed and advanced faster than she thought possible.

"Understood. Your status?"

Garret began to jog, the stiffness she associated with the creatures beginning to show signs of wearing off. She brought the radio to her mouth but thought the better of it as Garret frighteningly began to cover more ground and she turned to run up the stairs. Two steps from the top, the radio flew from her hands and dropped to the ground below as a stair collapsed out from under her, the impact of her chest against the next step knocked the breath from her body. Her waist hanging precariously in the air below the staircase, she struggled madly to pull herself up with her right arm. The rifle hanging from her side hindered her progress and she began to panic, flailing around hysterically. The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps sobered her and she struck out with her left arm, using both to pull herself up with a piercing scream of distress. Finding her feet, she didn't look back and ran up the second flight of stairs at a breakneck pace; flying down the hall so fast her feet barely touched the ground. Her momentum brought her up against the door to Operations with a thud and she frenetically punched in the entry code, her finger jabbing forcefully into the keypad.

She thanked God she got it on the first try and threw herself into the room, slamming the door shut behind her with a frightened energy. Her eyes came up to see Garret's face ram into the porthole hard enough to leave behind a blood smear and she quickly reentered the code to seal the door. The rifle came up and she backed away from the door slowly, her eyes riveted on the face staring at her blankly through the window. Her calves bumped up against a chair and she spun wildly, her eyes flying around the room in terror. Still hyperventilating from her close call, it took several minutes for her to restore any semblance of calm and composure.

Eventually, she balanced herself with a deep breath and unslung her rifle, placing it on the desk in front of her. She sank into the chair that had spooked her and gingerly poked at her shoulder, whimpering at the pain her examination produced. A sleeve from her ruined sweatshirt became a washrag and she tenderly wiped the blood from her face, throwing the soiled garment irritably across the room when she was finished. Starting to fume at the situation she found herself in, she lifted angry eyes to meet those that still maddeningly gazed at her through the window.

A hand came up to reveal her right breast she cupped it defiantly. "Suck me, bitch."

Her display elicited no response. Garret just stared.

Corky positioned herself in a corner of the lab and brought her knees up to her chest as soon as Malory disappeared down the hall, praying desperately for her safe return. Clovis joined her a few minutes later and she appreciated the comfort his presence provided, offering him a weak smile of gratitude.

The time stretched on excruciatingly and she schooled herself not to cry. Telling herself that if Malory could find the courage to do what she had, she would be brave enough not to break into heartsick tears. That is, until she at least had the benefit of a little privacy in which to conceal her breakdown. She was determined to give the appearance of strength, knowing that the people surrounding her looked to Malory for leadership and she wasn't going to tarnish that by playing the part of the hysterically inconsolable girlfriend. It was going to be a hard sell, even to herself.

Her eyes rose to the nervously pacing McNeely and stayed focused on him intently; he would be the first to know. The Sergeant prudently kept his distance from everybody, not wanting anyone to overhear any communications he might receive. However, she studied his body language carefully for any clue that he might unconsciously reveal.

A little over a quarter of an hour after Malory and her party had left, she caught the rapid motion of McNeely bringing his radio up, speaking into it tersely. She tensed as the man walked over to address everybody.

"Hanson got his door sealed and is on his way back," he reported. "Let's get ready in case he arrives in a hurry."

The men began to assemble into a large 'U' in front of the door and Clovis got up to join them, leaving her to maintain her vigil alone. The minutes passed in a tense and impatient silence, one melting slowly into the other. Finally, the radio in McNeely's hand barked urgently.

"I'm in the hall," Hanson muttered uneasily. "It's clear, let me in."

"Open the door," McNeely ordered and presently Hanson ran into the room, the door closing behind him immediately.

Hanson blew out a breath that lasted twenty seconds as the door was sealed behind him, his shoulders slumping dramatically in relief.

"Well done, Sergeant," McNeely said, clapping him fatherly on the shoulder. "Any trouble?"

He shook his head to the negative. "Any word from the Commander or Alvarez?"

"Not yet," McNeely said. "But they had further to go than you," he added and retreated to his private corner again.

Corky looked at the young Sergeant and scolded herself for wishing that it were Malory who had returned instead of him. Her worry was giving her a powerful headache and she lapsed back into her thoughts, eyes again straying to McNeely and taking up residence.

Another ten minutes of oppressive silence and McNeely paused his nervous pacing to raise his radio, crossing the room hurriedly.

"Alvarez on his way back," he said. "His door was already sealed and he's got company."

The men scrambled to their former positions, rifles shouldered and pointed steadily at the doorway.

Sooner than expected, McNeely's radio crackled. "I've got distance, ETA less than a minute," Alvarez reported breathlessly.

McNeely waited almost thirty seconds. "Open the door."

Within the span of three heartbeats, Alvarez raced into the room. "It's right behind me," he said and the door was spirited closed.

All eyes scanned the anteroom anxiously and the sound of plodding steps gradually became audible, eventually revealing the figure that once was Jones.

He entered slowly on an almost ruined leg and missing a good portion of his face. White teeth were visible through chunks of flesh that had been savagely torn away and the wounds moved with a life of their own as worms quivered ecstatically in the attempt to find undamaged tissue.

Corky noted this with unseeing eyes, suddenly rising to her feet. "We need to kill it," she said. "Malory can't get back in if its standing there."

McNeely stared at her in understanding and then turned eyes in Jones's direction as if summing the creature up. "Right, looks like he's been chewed on. Back away from the door and form up in the corners," he ordered and the men scrambled. "His right leg is barely there, everyone on that first. When he drops, burn him."

He turned to verify everyone was in place. "I'll open the door, give me a second to get clear," he added, moving forward.

His finger had depressed the first key when the unmistakable sounds of a shotgun being fired could be heard in the distance and he froze. Corky's hands came up to cover her mouth in comprehension and the room went deathly silent. A few unbearable seconds later, the long and steady burst of an automatic rifle echoed off the walls.

"Oh, God," Corky whined in horror.

Another quick abbreviated burst and silence reigned again, broken quickly with another long automatic salvo. All ears listened expectantly, waiting for anything that might provide more information but the silence weighed heavily and showed no sign of letting up.

"Love… craft," Jones gurgled, his voice receiving everyone's attention. "Love…craft is… dead," he finished and turned to lumber back into the hall.

Corky's resolve floundered at the words and her face altered from horror to despair. Her sob was startlingly loud within the confines of the room but no one could turn to look at her. As the sob was followed by another, Clovis put his weapon down and walked over to envelope her in an encompassing embrace.

The men moved away from them respectfully and McNeely crossed the room to sit down angrily in a chair, spinning in his seat to face the wall.

"McNeely," Malory's voice crackled through the radio.

"Fuck me!" McNeely exclaimed in surprise, bolting to his feet. The radio moving from his belt to his mouth in a blur. "Go ahead."

Corky's head rose sharply to peer out from behind one of Clovis' arms, hope shining in her eyes.

"The door is sealed," she reported.

"Understood. Your status?"

No answer was forthcoming. "Commander?" he asked impatiently.

Corky snatched the radio from her belt. "Malory?"

"Commander?" McNeely repeated and did so several times, his frustration growing with every unanswered call. Finally, he threw his arms into the air and made as if to throw his radio against the wall, barely restraining himself at the last second.

"I want a gun," Corky stated quietly in the silence that followed.

McNeely took a deep breath and turned to face her. "Why?"

"Because she's alive and we're going to find her," Corky said.

"Fuckin'A," Alvarez piped up in agreement.

McNeely nodded. "How many are we up against?"

"I figure six," Hanson said. "We found what was left of Isaaks in the tunnel. We know of Coy and Jones for certain. Garret is still missing as is Percy and we lost Gallagher and Dobson yesterday."

"Six?" Watkins said in distress. "We almost lost our ass to just three yesterday."

"We have a lot more guns now," Reynolds said. "And the complex is secure, whatever is out there is trapped in here. Just like us."

"We can't leave her out there," Corky said. "We won't leave her out there."

"We're not going to," McNeely said. "However, we'll need a group to stay behind. All of us walking around out there makes too big a target, as we found out yesterday."

"Who stays behind?" Watkins asked eagerly and received several derisive looks in his direction.

"Well, I guess you do," Alvarez said with thinly veiled contempt.

"Knock it off," McNeely said. "Ring, Hanson, Watkins, and Rivers get to keep the home fires burning. The rest form up."

"I'm going," Corky stated. "She may need help."

"Doctor," McNeely said. "If we find her and she's injured, you can't treat her out there. We'll get her back here on the double."

"I want to go."

McNeely sighed. "You're staying here because if she were present, she would never allow it," he said. "And I won't either. You would be a liability."

"I'm going," she said with narrowing eyes. "And you can't stop me," she added defiantly.

McNeely raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yes I can," he rumbled. "Although I'd rather not. Please, don't make me."

"I will not stay here! And we don't have the time to be talking about it."

McNeely eyed her carefully. "You're right, we don't have the time," he agreed suspiciously and turned to whisper in Reynolds's ear.

The Chief turned to leave the room, reappearing a minute later carrying several long strands of network cable that he handed to several of the soldiers.

"Do you wish to reconsider, Dr. Rivers?" McNeely asked.

Corky bared her teeth.

With a nod from McNeely, the men began to slowly advance on the little doctor.

Ten minutes later, McNeely sealed the lab door and joined the rest of the men in the hallway, ruefully dabbing at the scratches on one cheek with a finger.

"Jesus," he whispered. "She fought like a fuckin' Comanche," he added, getting several nervous chuckles of agreement. "Alright, DeSoto and Daly you're on point with me. Chief, Terrel, and Butler, bring up the rear. Alvarez you got tunnel duty. Use your radio. The rest of you form up between us single file."

"Right," Alvarez agreed, moving forward quietly and dropping through the hole in the floor. "Clear," he added a moment later through McNeely's radio.

McNeely nodded. "Remember boys, head and legs. Anything else is a waste of time."

III

Malory considered her alternatives, not particularly fond of any of them. She cursed herself for losing her radio, knowing that if she had retained it, she could at the very least, let everyone know that she was okay. She considered using the intercom but to do so would require bringing the complex out of lockdown, an action that wasn't option as it would release the seal on the all the doors. The worry over her own situation was only slightly less than her concern for those still among the living; a diminutive brunette principal among them.

She assumed herself to be the only one in immediate dire circumstances as she had overheard no shots being fired, either before or after her own. She felt sure she would have heard them if any had occurred. Being underground almost guaranteed the resonance and echo of gunfire to travel undiminished from one end of the complex to the other and she considered the lack of such noise a good sign. Unfortunately, if she wanted to look for bad signs, she had to look no further than her own body.

Her left shoulder was definitely dislocated and any further thought beyond that complication was determinedly silenced. The mere idea of undergoing a repeat of the surgery and therapy she had endured upon infliction of her past injury, made her want to cry. Her ribs were now definitely broken for when she moved, she could feel the ends grinding together and she could only hope that she wasn't bleeding internally. Breathing in through her nose was an exercise in stinging pain and even the thought of a gentle breeze wafting over it resulted in throbs of misery. But the biggest kick to the head, the one that really pissed her off, was the telltale cramps that alerted her to the early arrival of her period.

It was just too much.

Angry blue eyes rose to find Garret still staring at her through the window as if she were a rack of lamb and a plan began to form. The creatures were smart but they didn't know as much as Coy had led her to believe.

Intending to prove it, she rose stiffly to her feet and spent a few minutes foraging through the desks and cabinets, eventually accumulating all the necessities to implement the first stage of her plan.

Scotch tape and paper in hand, she approached the door and began to cover the porthole, slowly obscuring her activities from the unnerving eyes on the other side. The results of her labor were not appreciated and the thud of fists pounding against the door became loudly audible.

"Don't worry," she mumbled. "I'll be getting back to ya."

"Untie me," Corky growled from her hogtied position on the floor.

Hanson rubbed his watering eye, still stinging from its collision with the toe of the doctor's errant boot. The woman had put up a furious fight, kicking and screaming wildly. More than one of his colleagues had suffered an impact from her madly flailing hands and feet before they finally managed to subdue her.

"I said, untie me," Corky fumed, wiggling violently on the floor.

Hanson shot a look at the Lieutenant and almost laughed, knowing that if the situation wasn't so serious, he would have. Ring was seated with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, looking as if he might vomit or cry, perhaps both. The man had taken a vicious blow to the groin at the onset and was still suffering from the repercussions.

"Untie me, goddamn it!" Corky yelled.

He rubbed his eye again. "Promise to behave if I free you?"

"I promise to kick your ass," she hissed.

Watkins chuckled from across the room and he tried to ignore him. "Then I'm afraid we'll have to wait until McNeely gets back."

Corky went completely still and growled her frustration. "Okay, I promise," she ground out reluctantly.

"You sure now?"

"I said I fuckin' promise," she practically screamed.

"That language isn't very ladylike," he teased.

Corky craned her neck around to glare murder in his direction.

Ring finally emerged from his exile of affliction and chuckled. "Cut her some slack, Sergeant."

"Oh, alright," he relented easily, moving forward and drawing his knife.

Corky fought the urge to charge the man as she regained her feet and threw the cables still dangling from her wrists to the floor in irritation. She straightened her clothes with agitated hands and narrowed her eyes at the smirking Sergeant.

He acted quickly and extended a finger in reminder. "You promised."

Her lips tightened into a thin, tense line and she reached for the only weapon she could think of. "When the Commander gets back," she said threateningly. "I'm telling on you."

Her comment only succeeded in generating a chuckle from all three men.

Corky huffed and stomped off through the nearest door.

"Alvarez, we're halting," McNeely said into his radio and signaled a stop to those behind him.

"Understood."

McNeely wiped his forehead with his sleeve "Chief," he called out with a wave.

Reynolds came forward and knelt next to him on one knee.

"We've cleared half the complex and seen no sign, they've got to be close," McNeely said quietly.

"Yeah, I figured we'd have run into at least one by now," Reynolds replied, searching the hall in front and behind with a cautious gaze, his eye suddenly freezing on the ceiling behind them.

"Doug," he whispered and pointed to the roof.

McNeely followed the finger to a ceiling tile that was slightly ajar and directly above Butler and Terrel. "Jesus," he whispered, standing rapidly to call out to the men. "Butler, Terrel above…"

His warning came a second too late as the roof abruptly rained down on them and Gallagher fell from above, landing on his feet with an unnatural grace. Terrel rolled away as fast as the flame unit strapped to his back would allow, bringing his weapon up but hesitating to fire for fear of enveloping Butler and a group of civilians in flame.

Butler was not as fortunate, Gallagher landed directly behind him and he screamed as his arm was wrenched out of the socket and a spray of blood jutted from the fractured bone protruding through his bicep.

The men closest scrambled to get out of the way and Butler's scream morphed into a warbling gurgle as Gallagher's teeth seized his esophagus and tore through his throat. In his convulsions, Butler's finger clamped down on the trigger to his rifle and he sprayed gunfire wildly down the hall, several rounds catching Terrel in the chest and knocking him onto his back.

Gallagher threw the dying Butler aside like a rag doll and raced headlong into the men fleeing for safety.

"Behind me, now!" McNeely roared, watching in horror as Dr. Tanaka's head was slammed into the wall with an audible crack.

"Two behind us," Reynolds yelled.

McNeely yanked his head around to see Jones and Dobson casually advancing on them from a distance, his attention returned forward at Tomlinson's scream and he turned in time see the man's jaw completely torn away from his skull. His hand flashed to his radio. "Alvarez fall back to the lab, we're overrun," he yelled and stood to level his rifle. "Drop that fucker and run for the lab!" he ordered and let loose with a long automatic burst that humanely tore through the dying Dr. Garcia and plunged unnoticed into Gallagher's body.

The men followed his example and the now dead Garcia was reduced to tatters in a hail of gunfire. Clovis leveled his shotgun and emptied it at Gallagher's knees and he fell to the floor only to be surrounded by half a dozen men who vengefully emptied their weapons into the creature, blowing it apart by inches.

Reynolds darted past the conflict and slid to his knees next to the unmoving Terrel, cursing when dead eyes stared unseeing into his own.

"Move!" McNeely ordered, indiscriminately shoving the remaining men back the way they had come. "Run for the lab!"

The men took off at a dead run, all with the exception of DeSoto who calmly reloaded his rifle and took the time to empty it again into the quivering pulp that Gallagher had been reduced to.

"DeSoto, with me now!" Reynolds yelled and the young man turned to spare a last look at Butler's corpse before running to join the fleeing men.

McNeely again reached for his radio as they pounded down the hall. "Ring, we're coming back on the double, get on the door!" he yelled and a minute later he was caught up in the swell of bodies struggling to get inside into safety.

The Chief and DeSoto were the last to enter and Ring pushed the door closed with the assistance of several panicked hands.

"Wait! Is Alvarez here?" McNeely asked.

"I'm here, seal the fucking door!" Alvarez said and Ring punched the code into the door quickly.

A general sigh of relief encompassed the room and McNeely sidearmed his rifle across the room to take out a computer monitor. "Goddamn it!"

Corky ran back into the room at all the commotion and looked around fearfully, not spotting the one she hoped to find and noting with sadness that there were only eleven people in the room.

Watkins observed the lack of bodies too. "Great," he said sarcastically. "Maybe we should build a fire and sing some songs."

"If I were you, I'd shut the fuck up," Reynolds warned.

"I have the right to speak," he said. "The Commander's dead and we're dropping like flies. Are we just sup…"

His words were cut off by the butt of Alvarez's rifle slamming into the side of his face and he crumpled to the ground in a silent heap.

"Well done, Sergeant," Corky said mildly.

Malory heard the gunfire and cursed, momentarily halting work on her preparations as she listened intently for several minutes after the last shot had been fired. Fighting against a gnawing feeling of urgency, she hurriedly went about finishing her work.

She had painstakingly rearranged the room's three desks in front of the door to create an obstacle course, leaving only a few feet between each one. She was thankful that the infrequently used room was narrow enough to make each desk a tight fit. When Garret entered, he wouldn't be able to go around and would have to climb over each desk individually, hopefully giving her enough time to get away. As an afterthought, she had used her rifle to knock the casters off the legs on one side of each desk. Her plan would fail if the creature simply shoved each desk together and crushed her at the far end of the room. With the casters removed, this would make that possibility much more difficult, since each one now leaned into the floor at an angle.

Feeling as if she were ready, she checked the magazine of her pistol and chambered a round. Leaving the handgun on the last desk, she slung her rifle and slowly began negotiating the furniture on her way to the door.

She had no doubt Garret was still on the other side; the sound of his fists pounding relentlessly on the door had proven to be a constant source of anxiety and irritation. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she leaned over the last desk to enter the code that would unseal the door. As her finger depressed the last key she scrambled madly back to the rear of the room, leapfrogging the desks as quickly as she was able. She retrieved her pistol as her feet hit the floor behind the last one and waited anxiously for the door to open.

The pounding ceased when the entry light turned green and Garret wasted no time in throwing the door open violently, lunging into the room with an insane glee. His waist slammed into the first desk and Malory took careful aim, letting a round go as he rebounded slightly from his collision. The bullet entered his eye and snapped his head back violently, a red splatter flying into the air behind him. Undeterred, he bowled forward determinedly, the desk scraping loudly as the casterless legs dug into the floor. Her second shot missed its target and struck him in the bridge of his nose, managing to remove a good portion of his brainpan with an impressive patch of hair still attached. Garret rammed the first desk into the next and his momentum came to a jerking halt as he encountered the second obstacle. The .45 roared again and his vision was extinguished in a red mist.

Malory grunted in satisfaction as he began to flail around blindly and holstered her pistol. Garret's movements became frenzied and he lost his bearings, spinning around in a circle and lashing out in a desperate attempt to capture his quarry.

She brought the rifle up and kneeled to steady it against the top of the desk, taking deliberate aim. The bullets were fired one at a time, each one slamming into Garret's right hip. When the rifle locked open, she inserted another magazine and continued firing upon her target until his ruined hip could no longer support the weight of his body. She stood to insert a fresh magazine when he fell and cautiously moved forward, clearly aware of the still thrashing body. With a deep breath of preparation, she hopped onto the two smashed together desks and ran into a short leap that brought her clear of Garret's body and into the open doorway. In relative safety, she again raised the rifle and fired several automatic bursts into his good leg until the calf hung from flimsy strips of tissue. Satisfied, she reloaded her rifle and spared a spiteful smile at the writhing body.

"I'll be back in a little while to crispy critter your ass," she said. "Make yourself at home."

She pulled the door closed, entering the code to seal it and turning to make her way carefully down the steps. When she reached the bottom, she hurried under the staircase to retrieve her radio, pausing when she found a hacksaw lying next to it. Her eyes rose to examine the step that had collapsed under her weight and they narrowed thoughtfully; it had been sawed through to a fraction, one side of which now hung perilously from a small strand of twisted metal.

"Devious little fucker," she mumbled and reached to pick up her radio. "McNeely."

Agitated when she received no immediate response, she was about to call again when she noticed the power light was off. She clicked it on and off and then irritably tossed it into the snow, realizing it had been on when she lost it and the battery had run dry. Resolutely, she rose to her full height and twisted her head around until the vertebrae in her neck cracked.

"Here comes trouble," she said nefariously and began her trek down the hall.

In the lab, the sound of gunfire brought sagging heads up all around the room.

"That was a handgun," Alvarez said, coming to his feet.

Several of the men joined him and all listened intently as slow, repeated reports of rifle fire echoed through the complex.

Corky smiled joyfully. "It's Malory."

McNeely snatched his radio. "Commander?"

No reply but an answering hail of automatic fire that quickly ended.

"Commander?" he asked again, waiting several long seconds for a response. He was about to speak again when a figure in the hall suddenly stepped into the foyer.

He lowered the radio slowly as Percy walked to within arm's reach of the door. An expectant silence encompassed the room as all attention focused on the brutally disfigured man.

"He's been shot up," Clovis observed.

"This is the first we've seen of him since he went missing," Reynolds said. "I bet he had a run in with the Commander."

"Well unless they decided to start playing with guns, I would guess she got away from him," McNeely said.

"We…" Reynolds started but ground to a halt as Percy extended a finger and depressed a number on the keypad. "Shit!"

"Form up in the corners, move!" McNeely yelled and everyone scrambled.

Percy hit another button, slowly picking up speed and rapidly entering a series of numbers on the keypad.

"Oh, this is just fucking great," Watkins murmured.

McNeely watched the entry light signal red repeatedly. "What are the odds of him hitting the right numbers?"

"A million to one," Reynolds replied. "But he could hit the right combo any minute or not for months."

McNeely sighed, resting his rifle across his knees and leaning back against the wall. "Looks like we ain't gonna get any sleep."

"Let's let him in, he's alone," Alvarez said.

McNeely considered. "I don't know. They move a hell of a lot faster now than they did at the beginning."

"No shit," Reynolds whispered. "Gallagher was all over us, we'd lose somebody before we could put him down."

"Leaving him outside is good," Watkins said quickly.

Several sets of eyes strayed to the man contemptuously.

"Rigor Mortis," Corky said.

"Excuse me, Doctor?" McNeely asked.

"They're moving faster because Rigor Mortis is wearing off," she explained. "It must take a while for everything to loosen up again."

"They're planning now too," Reynolds added. "They must've decided an all out assault was too costly. They ambushed us this time."

"Fantastic," Watkins murmured. "Maybe we should just surrender."

"Watkins," Alvarez growled.

Malory sealed the tunnel door and again reentered the complex, spending a moment studying the carnage from her earlier encounter with Coy. There was a remarkable amount blood coloring the inside of the tunnel for several feet but no sign of a body, the red standing out dominantly against the white of the ice walls.

Carefully, she moved forward several feet until she could poke her head through the missing floor panels, her eyes landing happily on her discarded shotgun. She pulled herself up into the hall with a series of painful grunts and made a beeline for the weapon, snatching it up with a grin.

She loaded the weapon to capacity and chambered a round. "Groovy."

Moving cautiously forward, she padded down the hall as silently as she could, coming to a gradual halt when she turned a corner and spotted a slowly moving body several yards ahead. Coy was pulling himself down the hall with his hands, the stump of his leg keeping him from walking.

Malory closed in on him from behind, a little surprised that he was unaware of her presence. As she came to within a few feet, she could see that his leg had clotted and looking closer, took note of the worms working their way in and out of the flesh industriously. Laboring diligently to keep the tissue they resided in functional.

She took careful aim. "Hey," she said amiably. "What's that on your face?"

Coy's head snapped around to capture her with a single eye, most of his head and face missing. He spun wildly on the floor, using his hands in a flurry of motion to thrust himself towards her.

The blast dissolved what was left of his head in a crimson squall and the headless body contorted viciously around on the floor. Eight rounds later, she mechanically reloaded the shotgun and carefully stepped around the ruined pulp on the floor to continue her journey down the hall, humming softly.

Eventually, she arrived at her quarters and she opened the door cautiously, a cruel blue gaze scanning the interior carefully. Satisfied that no one was lurking, she entered her office and, shotgun poised at the ready, flung open the door to her room. Her eyes immediately tracked to Little Lovecraft's severed head and she snarled in fury, bending to pick it up and glancing around angrily in search of the rest of her doll. She found the body under the cot and gently put the two pieces of her beloved companion on top of her footlocker.

"Bastards," she hissed.

With a livid sigh, she rose to strip off her rifle and bandolier; setting the shotgun on her cot so she could carefully pull on a sweatshirt. Once she had it on, and after several sharp gasps of pain as the shirt made contact with her nose and she forced her wounded arm through the sleeves, she pulled a belt from her closet. The belt became a sling as she strapped it around her waist, trapping her left arm inside the loop and snugly tightening the limb to her side.

Feeling considerably better, she reclaimed her weapons and walked back into her office, pausing at the door to snatch her sombrero from its hook before stepping into the hall.

IV

Tension thickly saturated the interior of the lab as Percy relentlessly continued to calmly punch numbers into the keypad. Anxiety rising sharply and then falling off minimally every time the entry light flashed red, denying him access.

"We're gonna have to let him in," McNeely said resignedly. "We can't just sit here and wait for him to chance upon the right code and we should do it before one of his friends show up."

"We'll need some bait," Alvarez said. "I suggest someone expendable and therefore nominate Watkins."

"I second that," Ring said quickly and hesitant chuckles sounded off around the room.

"Fuck all of you," Watkins said. "I'm not moving from this spot."

"Knock it off," McNeely chided, shooting a glare around the room and then smiling slyly. "Besides, with any luck it'll go for him first."

The resulting snickers turned quickly into nervous laughter and even Corky joined in. The echo of a gunshot penetrated their moment of mirth and the laughter subsided swiftly. Eight more reports sounded off in quick succession and then silence reigned again.

"That's got to be the Commander," Alvarez said.

"I know it is," Corky said.

"Did those rounds sound any closer?" McNeely asked.

"Hard to tell inside, but they seemed louder," Hanson replied.

"It didn't seem to bother our friend out there," Reynolds pointed out.

Indeed, Percy hadn't paused in his mission and continued to persistently key numbers into the door.

"Could they be using weapons out there to break the seals on the doors?" Lenard asked.

"We don't have a weapon in inventory that could break the seal on those doors," Reynolds answered.

"Could any of our weapons break through this glass?" Lenard asked, gesturing to the transparent partition separating them from the foyer.

The Chief looked at the glass thoughtfully. "I seriously doubt it."

"But you're not sure?"

"There's a slim chance that concentrated fire could weaken it, why do you ask?"

"Not to rain on anyone's parade but the chances of Lovecraft being still among the living is remarkably slim," Lenard said. "These things have shown signs of astonishing intelligence, perhaps they're experimenting."

"Malory is alive," Corky said.

"I hope so, Doctor," Lenard said. "But we should be prepared for just about anything at this stage."

"Well, gee," Watkins muttered. "The thought of those things with weapons gives me a warm fuzzy."

"Watkins," McNeely rumbled. "If we didn't need the extra gun so badly I'd feed you to those things myself. Do yourself the favor of remaining quiet unless you have something productive to add."

Watkins rolled his eyes, falling back against the wall heavily and McNeely eyed him carefully for a long moment.

"Sergeant Major," Lenard said. "You said we have some explosives. Could they use those to penetrate the room?"

"Yes," McNeely answered. "But to use them requires a knowledge I would assume no one else has, except for myself and possibly Mr. Alvarez," he added with a look at the Tech Sergeant, receiving a nod of confirmation.

"Even the Commander?" Lenard asked.

McNeely paused. "Possible but doubtful."

"Have any of you considered the notion that if Lovecraft is one of those things," Watkins began condescendingly, "she has the knowledge to effectively destroy us all? She could walk right up and open this door or bring the entire complex out of lockdown."

"Malory is not one of those things," Corky growled.

McNeely shared a look with Reynolds and nodded.

Corky cast wary eyes on both of them. "What are you doing?"

"Doctor," McNeely sighed. "Unfortunately, Watkins has a point. We have to, at the very least, change the door codes again."

"No!" she protested. "She won't be able to get back in."

"That's the whole point," Watkins said.

"She is not one of those things!" Corky insisted. "She's out there fighting them, you've all heard the shots!"

"Doctor, if she falls," McNeely said. "She could endanger us all."

"You don't know anything!" Corky yelled. "She would kill herself to keep from being taken by those things!"

"That, is unarguably true, Dr. Rivers," McNeely agreed. "But even if she were to do that, we've all seen the dead get up and walk."

Corky opened her mouth to reply but ended up bringing a hand up to cover a sudden sob. She quickly turned away from everyone and faced the wall, her shoulders hitching.

McNeely watched her sadly for a moment and then turned to the Chief. "Do it."

Malory walked boldly down the hall, making no attempt at stealth. Her emotions traveling back and forth between moments of bleak pain and vicious intent. She fought bravely through occasional bouts of wooziness that she knew were the results of internal bleeding. When she found her attention wandering, she hummed out loud in an effort to keep herself grounded, often softly singing the words to the few songs she remembered snippets from.

Her steps came to a faltering halt as she rounded a corner and found the remains of several bodies in the distance. Lips twisted into a snarl and her shotgun came up in preparation as she advanced unwaveringly, noticing movement as she got closer to her destination.

Jones was so intent on his meal that he was unaware of her approach until the last second. He raised his head from the grisly hole in Terrel's belly with an expression of morbid surprise, only to find the barrel of a shotgun three inches away from his face. A ravaged piece of meat fell from his mouth in shock as his eyes rose to meet a pair of blue almost as insane as his own.

"Let me wash that down for you," she growled.

Jones would've found the blast deafening if he had retained the necessary anatomy. Grim intent fueled the next eight rounds and Malory paid no attention to the blood that splattered her from indulging in the close range massacre. When the gun was empty, she casually shook the worms and tissue off of her boots as she reloaded the weapon.

The sound of a footstep caught her attention and she turned to find Tanaka approaching stiffly from a few dozen yards away, one side of his head crushed in comically and the blood on his clothes still moist. She watched his advance indifferently as she chambered a round and inserted another shell to load the shotgun to full capacity.

Another sound from behind alerted her to the presence of Dobson and she gloomily assessed her situation; she couldn't drop them both in time to prevent one from reaching her. It was going to have to be a running battle. She smiled.

"You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn," she sang softly and turned to run in the direction of Tanaka, leveling her shotgun as she closed the distance.

Her rate of movement and the one handed grip on the shotgun affected her accuracy but the consequences of the nine semiautomatic blasts were devastatingly effective. The last two especially as they removed Tanaka's head from the nose up, leaving him blind and flailing around aggressively.

She didn't pause and ran the last few feet as fast as she could, screaming loudly in rage as she ducked her right shoulder and ran into him with all the strength she had available. The collision proved fruitful and Malory managed to knock him off his feet, but couldn't keep her balance as she bowled over him and fell painfully to the ground a few meters behind him, her shotgun skidding away from her.

Her mind fought to overcome a powerful spell of nausea and she floundered several times in the attempt to regain her feet. As she fell to the floor on her third attempt, the impending blackness of unconsciousness threatened to take over and she struggled to stave it off.

The struggle ended with an agonized rasp as she was lifted into the air by the belt that strapped her injured left arm to her side. Disorientated and helpless, she was manhandled roughly in the air until she abruptly found herself face to face with the demonic features of the late Dr. Dobson. A terrified power surged through her and she brought her good hand up to brutally claw into his eyes, digging in violently and tearing several nails off with the ferocity of her attack.

One of his hands clamped around the back of her neck and she felt herself being drawn inexorably forward. She went into a Herculean frenzy of resistance, contorting madly in his grasp, screaming in fear as his mouth began to advance on her own.

Suddenly, she went completely limp in his embrace and her head lolled backwards in apparent unconsciousness. An expression of macabre surprise crossed Dobson's ruined features and he paused in obvious curiosity, studying the limp form that lay helpless within his grasp.

His remaining eye blinked when blue orbs snapped open and regarded him savagely as a cool and unyielding object made contact with the roof of his gaping mouth.

"All sales are final," Malory rasped.

The pointblank blast of the .45 scattered the back of Dobson's head all over the ceiling and Malory landed on wobbly legs as the grip on her was released. Wasting no time, she backed up a step and took careful aim, extinguishing what was left of his vision with another roar from the handgun. She emptied the remaining rounds into his head with precision, moving a step with each shot in the direction of her misplaced shotgun, kneeling to retrieve it when the pistol locked open empty.

Keeping a careful eye on the sightless Dobson as he cavorted recklessly around the hallway, she reloaded the shotgun and chambered a round. "I hope like hell that you feel pain," she said hoarsely. "Because I really want this to hurt," she added, leveling the weapon and moving forward single-mindedly.

Corky looked up sharply at the sound of gunshots and blew out a relieved breath. She refused to subscribe to any theory that suggested Malory wasn't the source of all the gunfire.

McNeely rose to his feet and approached the door to the lab thoughtfully, leveling a hard stare on the vigorously determined Percy.

"She's out there," Corky said. "Let that fucker in and blow him away so we can go help her," she added with a dismissive gesture in Percy's direction.

"Fuck that," Watkins said. "If Lovecraft is alive, there's nothing we can do for the bitch."

Several of the men rose to their feet angrily and Corky spun on her heel to level a homicidal glare in his direction. "You worthless, yellow pussy," she hissed, striding towards him dangerously and extending a hand. "Give me your rifle, you spineless shit."

He clutched the weapon to his chest possessively. "Fuck off, you little queer. You ain't got the balls for it."

The sound of several rifles cocking was startlingly loud and Watkins looked up to see every gun barrel in the room pointed at him steadily, the eyes behind shining blatantly with deadly intent.

"Give her the weapon," McNeely rumbled. "Right now."

Watkins froze, excruciatingly aware that the threat outside now paled in comparison to the danger immediately confronting him.

"I said now," McNeely growled.

He slowly extended the weapon in Corky's direction and she snatched it out of his hands. "Asshole," she hissed.

"Chief, we're gonna need some more cable," McNeely said, still looking down the length of his gun barrel at Watkins. "And a chair," he added as an afterthought.

"With pleasure, Sergeant Major," Reynolds said cheerfully, lowering his rifle and ambling out of the room with a purpose.

Watkins eyes widened. "Wait a minute now. You can't…"

"Shut the fuck up," McNeely said. "I can think of about twenty people I wish were here with us now instead of you."

"That ain't no lie," Alvarez rumbled. "We lost some damn good men and I'd grease you myself right now if I thought it would bring any of them back."

Reynolds walked back into the room guiding a rolling chair in front of him, which he shoved into Watkins knees. "Have a seat, Dr. Watkins."

"You can't do…"

His words were cut off by the impact of the Chief's backhand and a flurry of distinctly unkind hands forced him into the chair, binding him tightly in place.

"Don't do this!" he screamed in panic.

"Gag him," McNeely said and a few seconds later, Watkins was silenced. "Place him against the wall in full view of the door."

Watkins whimpered helplessly through his gag as he was rolled into place, his eyes darting around fearfully.

"Alright," McNeely said. "Form up, I'm going to let Percy in. If a stray round strikes Watkins, I'll consider it an accident."

Alvarez and Reynolds turned slyly sinister smiles on the bound man.

"Head and legs. Everything else is a waste of time," McNeely reminded.

He looked around to receive nods of readiness and walked for the door, closing to within three feet before grinding to a surprised halt. His eyes riveted upon the instantly recognizable black sombrero as Malory stepped into the foyer and leveled a one handed shotgun at the back of Percy's head.

"Malory!" Corky exclaimed.

Percy turned as if perceiving a threat and the occupants inside the lab found themselves viewing a graphic portrait of blood, tissue, and bone as his head exploded onto the glass.

The gore obscured the details of the resulting carnage as eight more rounds thundered through the room. At the last shot, McNeely overcame his paralysis and lunged forward to open the door.

A tense moment later, Malory stepped in on shaky legs and attempted a weak smile in Corky's direction. "Hail to the Queen, baby," she rasped.

Corky's hands came to her mouth in concern as she got a close look at her lover, not knowing what injury to start fussing over first. Both of her eyes were blackened impressively from an obviously broken nose, the bruises so large they melted into the previous contusions she had suffered. Her left arm was strapped tightly to her body with a belt and her complexion was a sickly pale, not to mention the blood covering her from head to toe.

She took a hesitant step forward and then broke into a run as Malory's eyes rolled back and she began to collapse, saved from hitting the floor only by McNeely's quick embrace.

The Sergeant lowered her gently to the floor and Corky fell to her knees beside her, hands flying over her body in diagnosis.

"Get a stretcher," she ordered tersely a moment later. "She's in shock, we need to get her to Medical, right now."

"DeSoto, Daly," McNeely barked. "On the double!"

The men rushed from the room and McNeely turned to Hanson. "Burn that piece of shit," he said gesturing to Percy's quivering remains. "The rest of you gear up, let's make sure she got them all."

Corky barely heard the commotion going on around her as she tried to professionally detach herself from Malory's injuries. She failed miserably and the tears fell from her eyes freely as she struggled to find a spot on her lover's body that wasn't beaten or bruised.

As the flames from Percy's body were extinguished, the stretcher arrived and the Commander was loaded onto it quickly. Corky slung her rifle over her shoulder and raced behind DeSoto and Daly as they hurried her lover out of the lab and down the hall.

05/12/02 - 0920 hours

Four hours later, McNeely watched dispassionately as Garret's remains were reduced to ashes and Reynolds walked up beside him.

"Fuckin'A, Doug," the Chief whispered. "She got every one of 'em."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah, she did."

Reynolds let out a long breath. "Think she'll be okay?"

"I dunno," he replied. "I fuckin' hope so."

"So do I."

McNeely sighed. "Let's get this place cleaned up and stowed away. We still have a few months before we can get the hell out of here. Start with the mess, I'm sure I'm not the only one hungry enough to eat the ass out of a rhino."

"Watkins is still in the lab," he reminded amusedly.

"Have someone tighten his restraints and wheel him into his quarters," McNeely said. "Let him work his way free."

Reynolds grinned. "I believe Alvarez would volunteer for that."

A small chuckle. "I'll bet," he said. "We might also want to look after the belongings of everyone we lost."

"I'll see to it," Reynolds said. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to Medical," he said. "Have someone bring me a plate when chow is available."

"Will do," Reynolds agreed. "I'd imagine everyone will be there as soon as they can."

McNeely nodded and turned to walk out of Operations, leaving Hanson and Ring to see to their grisly task.

He found himself alone when he arrived at his destination, the divider drawn across the room. With a tired sigh, he seated himself to wait, all too aware of the steady beep of monitoring equipment hidden behind the curtain.

McNeely was startled awake by a nudge from the Chief, who offered him a hot plate of food and sank into the chair next to him. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and was surprised to find everyone but Watkins present.

"Thanks," he grumbled. "What time is it?

"1400."

"Any word?"

"Not yet."

He grunted. "Everything squared away?"

"It's a work in progress," the Chief said. "It'll be a few days."

A nod. "I guess it's time to bite the bullet," he announced reluctantly, rising to his feet and setting his plate in the chair before warily slipping behind the divider.

His eyes instantly landed on the unconscious Commander and he winced in sympathy as she was rendered almost unrecognizable by the metal cast taped across her nose. A thin sheet was tucked meticulously around her body and he followed the IV trail to her arm, where he found the doctor asleep. Corky was slumped over in a chair by the bedside, her face resting on the mattress next to Malory's hand. He approached quietly and knelt next to the slumbering doctor, nudging her gently.

She snapped awake instantly. "Malory," she said hopefully, her eyes anxiously searching.

"Doctor," he said softly, alerting her to his presence and she jumped in surprise. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," she mumbled.

"How is she?"

She turned tired eyes in his direction. "She's gonna be okay," she choked out, her voice cracking.

He blew out a long, relieved breath. Not getting the chance to speak as Corky's face crumbled and she launched herself into his arms, crying tears of worry and relief. "Oh, hey," he soothed, surprised to find the little doctor clinging to him desperately. "It's all over now."

The men nearby overheard snippets of the conversation and recognized the unmistakable sounds of Corky crying, they muttered among themselves in agitation.

"If the Commander doesn't make it," Alvarez rumbled darkly. "I'm going to execute Watkins just for the fuck of it."

A few mumbles of agreement met his words and several minutes later, the Sergeant Major emerged from behind the divider. All eyes rose expectantly.

McNeely smiled and shoulders slumped universally in relief. "She's gonna be out of it for awhile, but she'll pull through."

"Is there anything we can do, Sergeant?" Clovis asked.

"I'm glad you asked that," McNeely said. "Dr. Rivers will be staying in Medical for the foreseeable future so I'd like you to pack her a bag and grab her a cot. Also, someone go grab her something to eat, I'd imagine she's pretty hungry."

The men jumped to their feet.

"Oh, one more thing," he added nonchalantly. "Someone go tighten the ropes on Watkins and put a plate of food just out of his reach."

"I'll do that," Alvarez said quickly, turning to leave the room.

"Mr. Alvarez," McNeely said before he could leave.

"Yes?"

"Make sure you leave the faucet dripping too."

The Tech Sergeant smiled widely.

05/15/02 - 1530 hours

Corky bent over her patient studiously, squinting through magnifying lenses as she carefully placed the stitches. She had never sewn a head back on, mostly because the act itself seemed like an exercise in futility, but this was a special case. It was her hope that the endeavor would leave undetectable scars and she went through great pains to make her stitches as small as possible. So intense was her concentration, that she failed to notice the blue eyes that fluttered open behind her.

Malory immediately squinted in response to the bright light situated above her and she spent a few minutes adjusting. When she was able to open her eyes completely, the first thing she noticed was the obstruction on her face and a hand rose to investigate.

"Oww," she squeaked piteously when she poked herself harder than she intended.

Corky's head came up immediately and she turned in her chair hopefully, her face lighting up happily as she met Malory's open eyes.

"Hey," she said, a ridiculous smile on her face that she couldn't control.

"Hey," Malory rasped hoarsely, trying a smile that rapidly turned into a scowl. "It hurts to smile."

"I know," Corky said, turning to discreetly cover her other patient with a sheet. "Let me get you some juice to drink," she added, bouncing across the room to a little refrigerator.

"Okay."

Malory crossed her eyes in an attempt to view her nose until Corky approached and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. "Apple juice, alright?"

"Sure," she replied and was instantly force-fed a straw.

"Suck," Corky demanded.

Malory did as she was told, watching the doctor with wary eyes.

When Corky had determined that she had consumed an acceptable amount, she withdrew the straw.

"You're smiling at me," Malory said. "I take it I'm going to live?"

"Yep."

"How bad is my shoulder?"

"It was just dislocated," Corky replied. "Nothing was broken or torn."

Malory released the breath she was holding in relief but then looked at Corky suspiciously. "Then why do I feel so bad?"

"You lost a lot of blood, most of it internal. You broke three ribs, they were piercing you on the inside."

"Oh," Malory whispered. "What's with the shit on my face? Will I end up looking like the Elephant Man?"

Corky giggled. "Nope, in a few weeks you'll be as pretty as ever."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Do you have a mirror?"

"Why?"

"I want to see."

"No, you don't."

"Please."

Corky rolled her eyes. "You won't like what you see."

"You said it would heal, right?" Malory asked suspiciously.

"Yes."

"Then let me see."

Corky wavered uncertainly, but sighed and crossed the room to retrieve a hand mirror. "Remember, you'll soon be as good as new. I promise," she said and reluctantly held the mirror in front of Malory's face.

A gasp and Malory swatted the mirror away. "I look like the ass end of a roadkill," she said babyishly.

Corky smiled. "You're beautiful."

"Whatever," Malory said. "How long do I have to lie here?"

"A while yet."

A childish sigh.

"I missed you," Corky said softly, leaning over to place another kiss on her forehead.

"Do you love me?" Malory whispered.

"More than anything in the world."

"Okay, I'll lie here for a few days," she announced generously.

Corky chuckled. "You don't have much choice in the matter."

"But what if I need to… uhm… shake the dew off my lily?"

Corky smiled and reached down to produce a bedpan.

Malory's eyes widened in horror. "No way."

"Give it a rest," Corky scoffed. "I've already changed it for you a couple of times," she teased gently. "And the Sergeant Major did it once."

A mortified gasp and Corky broke down instantly with a look at her face.

"Okay, I was just kidding about the Sergeant," she admitted with a snicker.

"No fair picking on me," Malory rumbled. "I'm convalescing."

"Oh, alright," Corky said with a grin. "I couldn't resist."

Malory grunted.

"Speaking of the Sergeant, I should call him. I know he wanted to talk to you when you woke up."

"No."

"Huh?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, thanks to you."

"Then I don't want to see him unless it's an emergency."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" she asked sarcastically. "Look at me. I'm so ugly I could make a train back up and take a dirt road."

A chuckle. "So? Its not like he's gonna make a pass at you or anything. Don't be such a little prom queen."

Malory sighed. "Fine, but I'm not using the bedpan. I'd rather teach my asshole how to chew gum."

Corky laughed. "I love you, Malory."

Morose eyes rose. "I love you too."

"I know you're feeling moody," Corky soothed. "I have something that might cheer you up."

"What's that?"

For an answer, Corky walked over and pulled the sheet away from the room's other occupant with a flourish.

"You fixed her!"

Corky grinned like an idiot at Malory's delight and carried Little Lovecraft over to be clutched in an impatiently extended hand. "She's a tough little bitch, just like her Mommy. Although, she did learn some manners while you were sleeping."

Eyes sparkled with amusement. "Is that a fact?"

"Yep."

Malory seated the doll on her chest and pulled the string.

"What happened to your nose? Did your parents lose a bet with God?"

Malory scowled as her lover roared. "It's going to be a long winter."

V

10/31/02 - 0800 hours

It had been six days since Corky had seen Malory, something she had been quietly warned to expect on the flight to Washington. So it wasn't a surprise when upon arrival, Malory and the other servicemen had been spirited away and she had found herself, Clovis, Lenard, and Watkins together in a separate vehicle, losing sight of Malory's car as it pulled into an underground parking garage situated beneath the Pentagon

From that point, she had been separated from her colleagues and had become an unwilling guest of the government, spending three full days undergoing an interrogation conducted by six stern looking men that had absolutely no sense of humor. On the fourth day, she was given a room key and an escort to a nearby hotel with instructions to remain there until called upon.

The time since, had been spent in a long haze of worry and concern, wondering anxiously what would happen to Malory and the others. They had discussed it a lot in the month before their rescue, both in public and in private. As Commander, Malory was the one held the most culpable and speculating her fate was a constant source of unease that consumed Corky to no end.

Finally, the call had come and had been greeted with both relief and apprehension. Now, the Pentagon loomed in the distance and she looked disinterestedly through a car window as the scenery passed her by.

As the vehicle pulled to a stop, she recognized with a scowl several of the men waiting to greet her as erstwhile interrogators and she got out reluctantly. Unexpectedly, another man emerged from the crowd and her eyes lit up happily as she rushed forward to embrace him.

"Larry!" she exclaimed, flinging herself into his arms. "It's so good to see you."

"Well, hello there," Larry said jovially after receiving his mauling.

"What are you doing here?"

"They wanted to talk to me too."

"What's going on?"

"Not quite sure yet."

A throat cleared and their escort gestured them inside. Corky scowled as she fell in with the pace of the procession, more than a little irritated with all the secrecy. The entourage traveling silently through what seemed like never-ending miles of corridor until they arrived at a door manned by a pair of grave looking Marines, one of which opened the door.

"Dr. Rivers, Dr. Daniels, please make yourselves comfortable," he said, gesturing them inside.

Warily, Corky entered the room and smiled happily upon encountering her friends, all of whom were wearing their dress uniforms.

"Hi guys, don't you all look handsome," she said happily, looking around hopefully but coming up empty. "What's the scoop?"

"Don't know," McNeely said. "This is the first we've seen of each other since we landed."

"Where's Malory?"

"No idea," McNeely admitted. "But I'll bet we find out today."

Corky grunted. "Is she in trouble?"

"She better not be," Clovis rumbled and she smiled at him fondly.

"We were all run through the ringer," Reynolds said. "I can guarantee it was much worse for her."

"So what are we here for?" she asked.

"To wait," McNeely said.

"For what?"

"We'll have to wait to find out," McNeely said and Corky scowled in frustration.

10/31/02 - 0400 hours

It had been almost seven hours and the sound of the door opening startled everyone, Corky looked up expectantly and was disappointed to see an elder man in a Naval uniform enter the room.

"Attention!" McNeely barked as he sprang to his feet, prompting the other soldiers to follow suit.

"At ease and good afternoon," he said amiably. "Mr. Watkins would you come with me, please?"

The ostracized Watkins who sat by himself in a far corner of the room, reluctantly rose to his feet and preceded the Admiral out of the room. He left the door open in his wake and Corky performed a double take, hardly recognizing Malory as she walked through the door in her uniform.

"Attention!" McNeely said again and Malory closed the door behind her, turning to find a roomful of salutes directed at her.

"Oh, cut it out," she chided jovially, accepting a flying embrace from Corky.

"Would you look at those legs?" McNeely said in wonder.

"You owe me money," Reynolds said. "I told you she shaved them."

"Look at those ribbons," Alvarez said. "I've seen Generals who didn't have so many."

Malory rolled her eyes and leaned over to kiss Corky on the top of her head. "If everyone is finished having fun at my expense, I'll tell you what's going on," she said, belatedly noticing Daniels. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Daniels."

"Good to see you, Commander," he replied.

Everyone found a seat good-naturedly and looked at her expectantly.

"First of all, everyone has been cleared of any malfeasance, including myself," she announced to communal relief. "And the powers that be have approached me with a proposal to present to you all."

"What's that, skipper?" McNeely asked.

"You have thirty days to decide whether or not you'd like to continue on to other duty assignments or remain under my command. Those of you with the Coast Guard, which falls under the authority of the Department of Transportation, will be permanently seconded to the Navy," she explained. "Those of you with the NSF have the option to become DOD employees under my purview."

A rapid exchange of surprised glances.

"Wow," Reynolds exclaimed. "That's a bag of tricks."

"I don't get it," McNeely said.

"As improbable as it seems, our government doesn't have an abundance of people experienced in, what one would call, the supernatural," Malory said casually. "The DOD will provide a base of operations for us and we'll be deployed nationally and internationally to investigate… uhm… paranormal phenomenon."

"You're kidding, right?" Clovis asked.

"No, I'm not," Malory said. "I was just as surprised as I'm sure all of you are now."

"Does that include me?" Daniels asked.

"It includes everyone in this room and any staff we care to bring into the fold," Malory explained. "However, our mission and objectives are to remain classified."

"I'll be damned," Alvarez muttered.

"You have a month of leave to decide," Malory said. "Those of you interested need to report back to me here, at the end of that time."

Corky pulled on her sleeve, guiding her to a private corner of the room.

"Malory," she said. "What does this mean for us?"

A bright smile. "We can do whatever you want. I don't have to be involved in this and neither do you."

Corky grunted and peeked around Malory at the men muttering among themselves. "I want to do it."

"Then that's what we'll do."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Can we go see my parents first?"

"Sure."

"Where will we live?"

"Don't know yet, but I used to work in this building. I have a condo in town," Malory said. "It has a king-sized bed," she added rakishly.

Corky giggled. "I can hardly wait."

"Me either," Malory said excitedly. "I've been wondering for months what sex would be like in a real bed."

Corky favored her with a gentle smile. "I'm so proud of you," she said softly. "Let me go talk with the guys, you wait here."

"Okay," she said agreeably and watched curiously as the men huddled around the doctor and they mumbled quietly for several minutes.

Eventually, she wandered over to the window to watch the traffic in the distance, becoming lost in her own thoughts.

"Commander?" McNeely said sharply and she turned to find everyone lined up in the middle of the room.

"Yes?"

"We've already decided."

"And?"

Daly began to whistle and her eyes widened in recognition, a hand rising to cover her mouth as a group Cabbage Patch began.

"Come all without. Come all within," they sang boisterously. "You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn..."

END

* Quinn, the Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn) Words and Music by Bob Dylan © 1968, 1976 Dwarf Music
* The Doppelganger Artwork by Eric Wadley © 2001 Archetypal Visions