Flashlight beams bounced off the tunnel walls, revealing old steel plates, hanging lanterns, cords, and decaying pipes. The special ops teams couldn’t risk turning the aged lights on—their energy signal might alert the Union to their presence. That meant the three XLS squads would operate in the pitch black corridor with only flashlights and night vision to aid them.
After a long trek down the main tunnel, the three teams reached the point where three smaller corridors branched out. Kline signaled for all teams to stop. Each team gathered at the tunnel that would take them to their targets within the Union facility. They waited for Kline’s order.
Kline spoke softly through his tactical suit’s communications system, “We’re at the fork.”
“Countdown starts…now. All teams commence operations,” came the answer.
Kline made visual contact with each team lead and gave them the sign to move out. The teams faded into the darkness of their respective passageways. Kline watched them all vanish before taking a step towards the tunnel where the Blue Team had gone. Then he paused. A vibration—slight, almost unperceivable. Frowning, he moved to the wall and placed his palm against one of the steel plates.
He swore.
Thunder crashed through the tunnel system like an oncoming freight train. The ground jolted once, and then shook hard side-to-side. Dust fell off the walls and ceiling. The overhead lights swayed. A cord snapped, sending one of the lanterns to the floor. It shattered a few feet from Kline.
Kline ducked and growled into the communications system, “What’s going on?”
“Subsurface quake. Richter scale is registering 6.3.”
Kline bolted through the falling dirt and tried to catch up to the rest of the Blue Team. “Will the tunnel hol–”
A steel plate separated from the side wall. He dove to the side as the plate smashed into the ground, and then quickly regained his feet. He was about to push forward into his assigned tunnel, but his flashlight caught something. He pointed its beam at the ceiling thirty feet farther into the tunnel. It buckled.
“Blue Team! Abort! Repeat, abor–”
The tunnel collapsed. Dirt, dust, and rocks poured off the walls and ceiling. Kline stumbled backward. Through the swirling gray haze he could see a huge pile of rubble that reached from floor to ceiling. The passage was blocked.
“Blue Team!?! Blue Team, report! Blue…” he stopped. Nothing but static. His team was lost.
