easiest adventure they had on the trip, as Nellis AFB sat on the edge of Las Vegas and the SATINT was very clear that the entire city was a complete loss, overrun by the undead.
Arcuni and Garcia nervously press checked their M4s, both verifying that their rifles were loaded and the selector was still on “safe.” Without any distractions, both of them fidgeted nervously while the conversation faded to silence. Cliff fought to keep the truck’s speed above forty miles per hour, but that was proving difficult as they neared the Las Vegas Motor Speedway and took the exit for NV-604.
Cliff drove the truck back and forth across the highway, dodging abandoned cars and the shambling undead. “OK, the gap in the concrete barriers should be up here on the right. Garcia, do you have the bolt cutters ready?”
“Yeah, boss.”
“Arcuni, you ready with the zip ties?”
“Sure, but I don’t see how the zip ties could hold the fence if enough of them press against it.”
“It might hold, it might not, but it should slow them down enough to give us time to complete our mission. Regardless, it’s better than doing nothing and hoping they don’t follow us in.”
Cliff glanced in the rear-view mirror, then pointed over his shoulder. Arcuni twisted in his seat and looked out of the truck’s rear window. In the near distance he saw a large number of undead stumbling and following the passing truck. In the truck they far outpaced the dead, but the dead would eventually catch up when the truck stopped.
Garcia pointed. “There!”
Cliff slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel. The truck drove across the highway onto the sandy shoulder and stopped directly in front of the chain-link fence that ringed the air base. Concrete K-barriers lined the inside of the fence to prevent someone from driving onto the base, but, using the SATINT, Wright found a spot that had a gap large enough for the truck to drive through. Garcia jumped out of the truck, followed by Arcuni. Arcuni’s cargo pocket bristled with large zip ties. He provided security with his M4 while Garcia used bolt cutters to cut the fence. Quickly, the fence was cut free and pulled out of the way for Cliff to drive the truck through. Once through, Arcuni and Garcia made quick work of putting the fence back in place, zip ties through each piece of the cut chain-links.
They both climbed back into the cab and Cliff drove forward, the truck bouncing through the short distance into a parking lot and then onto Ellsworth Avenue. The large tail of the C-130 rose above the buildings to the south. Cliff drove to the edge of the flight line, where another chain-link fence was in their way. Garcia made quick work of this fence, but since they were on base, the fence remained cut and unrepaired.
The C-130 sat in front of them with no visible activity around it. No APU was in sight, but Arcuni didn’t mind. As long as there was enough fuel on board to make the quick hop to Groom Lake, they would be fine. The aircraft could start under its own power and there was plenty of fuel for the plane in storage at Groom Lake. He only had to get it home safely.
The truck stopped by the open tail ramp of the cargo plane and all three of them climbed out. Garcia stayed by the truck and provided security, his M4 at the ready. Cliff and Arcuni cautiously walked up the cargo ramp towards the cockpit. They found the aircraft empty. Arcuni sat his rifle on the co-pilot’s seat, climbed into the left seat, and flipped the master switch on. The dash lit up like a Christmas tree. Turning on a few more systems, Arcuni found the fuel tanks more than half full, and as long as the engines would start they could easily make it home to Groom Lake.
Arcuni smiled at the whine of the starter motor as it spun up the turbine of each motor in sequence. The clicks of the igniters were followed by the deep fwomp sound of the fuel igniting before being drowned out by the whining turbine motors and large
Arcuni and Garcia nervously press checked their M4s, both verifying that their rifles were loaded and the selector was still on “safe.” Without any distractions, both of them fidgeted nervously while the conversation faded to silence. Cliff fought to keep the truck’s speed above forty miles per hour, but that was proving difficult as they neared the Las Vegas Motor Speedway and took the exit for NV-604.
Cliff drove the truck back and forth across the highway, dodging abandoned cars and the shambling undead. “OK, the gap in the concrete barriers should be up here on the right. Garcia, do you have the bolt cutters ready?”
“Yeah, boss.”
“Arcuni, you ready with the zip ties?”
“Sure, but I don’t see how the zip ties could hold the fence if enough of them press against it.”
“It might hold, it might not, but it should slow them down enough to give us time to complete our mission. Regardless, it’s better than doing nothing and hoping they don’t follow us in.”
Cliff glanced in the rear-view mirror, then pointed over his shoulder. Arcuni twisted in his seat and looked out of the truck’s rear window. In the near distance he saw a large number of undead stumbling and following the passing truck. In the truck they far outpaced the dead, but the dead would eventually catch up when the truck stopped.
Garcia pointed. “There!”
Cliff slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel. The truck drove across the highway onto the sandy shoulder and stopped directly in front of the chain-link fence that ringed the air base. Concrete K-barriers lined the inside of the fence to prevent someone from driving onto the base, but, using the SATINT, Wright found a spot that had a gap large enough for the truck to drive through. Garcia jumped out of the truck, followed by Arcuni. Arcuni’s cargo pocket bristled with large zip ties. He provided security with his M4 while Garcia used bolt cutters to cut the fence. Quickly, the fence was cut free and pulled out of the way for Cliff to drive the truck through. Once through, Arcuni and Garcia made quick work of putting the fence back in place, zip ties through each piece of the cut chain-links.
They both climbed back into the cab and Cliff drove forward, the truck bouncing through the short distance into a parking lot and then onto Ellsworth Avenue. The large tail of the C-130 rose above the buildings to the south. Cliff drove to the edge of the flight line, where another chain-link fence was in their way. Garcia made quick work of this fence, but since they were on base, the fence remained cut and unrepaired.
The C-130 sat in front of them with no visible activity around it. No APU was in sight, but Arcuni didn’t mind. As long as there was enough fuel on board to make the quick hop to Groom Lake, they would be fine. The aircraft could start under its own power and there was plenty of fuel for the plane in storage at Groom Lake. He only had to get it home safely.
The truck stopped by the open tail ramp of the cargo plane and all three of them climbed out. Garcia stayed by the truck and provided security, his M4 at the ready. Cliff and Arcuni cautiously walked up the cargo ramp towards the cockpit. They found the aircraft empty. Arcuni sat his rifle on the co-pilot’s seat, climbed into the left seat, and flipped the master switch on. The dash lit up like a Christmas tree. Turning on a few more systems, Arcuni found the fuel tanks more than half full, and as long as the engines would start they could easily make it home to Groom Lake.
Arcuni smiled at the whine of the starter motor as it spun up the turbine of each motor in sequence. The clicks of the igniters were followed by the deep fwomp sound of the fuel igniting before being drowned out by the whining turbine motors and large
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