The Zone: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Infection Chronicles Book 1) by Tripp Ellis Page A
Authors: Tripp Ellis
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database. But the facial recognition software did not detect a match for Chloe.
Shadow Net , was the government’s extensive surveillance program. It kept detailed records on everyone—not just suspected terrorists. It was highly controversial, and illegal. It didn’t technically exist. Steele wasn’t a fan of the Orwellian nature of current surveillance programs. But he hoped this might help him find Chloe.
In the center of the compound, Steele saw what looked to be an entrance to an underground bunker. Chloe must be somewhere underground.
Not only would Steele have to penetrate the defenses of a heavily fortified complex—he’d have to get into the underground bunker as well. Then once inside, liberate Chloe and countless other hostages. It seemed an almost impossible objective. But Steele had a plan.
CHAPTER 18
THE MASSIVE METAL doors of the compound swung open, and the black 4x4 sped out. Steele’s eyes narrowed as he watched. His face tensed, seething at the sight of the Vantage 250. They took Chloe, and he wanted revenge.
The truck roared down Norfolk Avenue, then turned on Vermont Street. If they kept heading in that direction they would pass right by the scrapyard.
Steele slid down the conveyor to the base of the machine. He leapt down to the concrete, his boots splashing in a puddle of rainwater.
“What’s up?” Parker asked.
“Routine traffic stop.” Steele grinned. “Black 4x4 is heading our way. You take the driver, I’ll take the gunner. Leave the passenger alive. Feel free to cause him pain though. And keep it quiet.”
Steele attached a Bauer SD2, quick-detach suppressor to the barrel. He switched the RK 709 assault rifle to silent operation. Then dashed through the scrapyard to the street.
Parker followed.
The special forces had adopted the RK 709 because of its covert and stealth capabilities. Combined with smart ammunition, it was a state-of-the-art killing machine with surgical precision. The microprocessor in the weapon was more powerful than a room of supercomputers from the turn-of-the-century.
Most of the sound a rifle makes comes from the sonic boom of the bullet as it breaks the sound barrier. But the RK got around that. With polymer cased ammunition and microprocessors on each round, the propellant charge of the bullet could be altered. In stealth mode, a reduced propellant charge kept velocity under 1100 feet per second, keeping the bullet subsonic. In this mode, the loudest sound the weapon made was the click of the trigger.
The DOD had spent a lot of money making sure the rounds were as accurate and as reliable as traditional rounds. The trade-off was a bit of distance, but the technology kept the rounds just as accurate. And the polymer casings kept the guns from getting gummed up and jamming.
Steele blazed through the heaps of rusted and twisted metal until he reached Vermont Street. He positioned himself at the corner of the front office building. Parker crossed Vermont Street and crouched behind a dumpster at the mouth of an alleyway.
Steele could hear the diesel engine clattering toward them. From Steele’s vantage point, Vermont Street curved and sloped slightly downhill, obscuring the 4x4’s approach. Steele kept his sights fixed on the street. A moment later, the truck rambled around the corner. The driver accelerated up the incline.
The gunner stood in the truck bed leaning against the mounted .50 caliber. He was casually glancing from side to side, scoping out rooftops and alleyways. But he didn’t seem too concerned. He was close to home and a little too comfortable.
Steele kept the RK’s crosshairs on the man’s head. He waited, his finger wrapped tight around the trigger. Just a little closer. The driver was babbling on about something. The passenger was lighting a cigarette. When the truck was about 50 yards away, Steele squeezed the trigger.
Parker heard the barely audible click of the trigger mechanism. The bullet
Shadow Net , was the government’s extensive surveillance program. It kept detailed records on everyone—not just suspected terrorists. It was highly controversial, and illegal. It didn’t technically exist. Steele wasn’t a fan of the Orwellian nature of current surveillance programs. But he hoped this might help him find Chloe.
In the center of the compound, Steele saw what looked to be an entrance to an underground bunker. Chloe must be somewhere underground.
Not only would Steele have to penetrate the defenses of a heavily fortified complex—he’d have to get into the underground bunker as well. Then once inside, liberate Chloe and countless other hostages. It seemed an almost impossible objective. But Steele had a plan.
CHAPTER 18
THE MASSIVE METAL doors of the compound swung open, and the black 4x4 sped out. Steele’s eyes narrowed as he watched. His face tensed, seething at the sight of the Vantage 250. They took Chloe, and he wanted revenge.
The truck roared down Norfolk Avenue, then turned on Vermont Street. If they kept heading in that direction they would pass right by the scrapyard.
Steele slid down the conveyor to the base of the machine. He leapt down to the concrete, his boots splashing in a puddle of rainwater.
“What’s up?” Parker asked.
“Routine traffic stop.” Steele grinned. “Black 4x4 is heading our way. You take the driver, I’ll take the gunner. Leave the passenger alive. Feel free to cause him pain though. And keep it quiet.”
Steele attached a Bauer SD2, quick-detach suppressor to the barrel. He switched the RK 709 assault rifle to silent operation. Then dashed through the scrapyard to the street.
Parker followed.
The special forces had adopted the RK 709 because of its covert and stealth capabilities. Combined with smart ammunition, it was a state-of-the-art killing machine with surgical precision. The microprocessor in the weapon was more powerful than a room of supercomputers from the turn-of-the-century.
Most of the sound a rifle makes comes from the sonic boom of the bullet as it breaks the sound barrier. But the RK got around that. With polymer cased ammunition and microprocessors on each round, the propellant charge of the bullet could be altered. In stealth mode, a reduced propellant charge kept velocity under 1100 feet per second, keeping the bullet subsonic. In this mode, the loudest sound the weapon made was the click of the trigger.
The DOD had spent a lot of money making sure the rounds were as accurate and as reliable as traditional rounds. The trade-off was a bit of distance, but the technology kept the rounds just as accurate. And the polymer casings kept the guns from getting gummed up and jamming.
Steele blazed through the heaps of rusted and twisted metal until he reached Vermont Street. He positioned himself at the corner of the front office building. Parker crossed Vermont Street and crouched behind a dumpster at the mouth of an alleyway.
Steele could hear the diesel engine clattering toward them. From Steele’s vantage point, Vermont Street curved and sloped slightly downhill, obscuring the 4x4’s approach. Steele kept his sights fixed on the street. A moment later, the truck rambled around the corner. The driver accelerated up the incline.
The gunner stood in the truck bed leaning against the mounted .50 caliber. He was casually glancing from side to side, scoping out rooftops and alleyways. But he didn’t seem too concerned. He was close to home and a little too comfortable.
Steele kept the RK’s crosshairs on the man’s head. He waited, his finger wrapped tight around the trigger. Just a little closer. The driver was babbling on about something. The passenger was lighting a cigarette. When the truck was about 50 yards away, Steele squeezed the trigger.
Parker heard the barely audible click of the trigger mechanism. The bullet
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