Division 13 Case File 013-006: The Tomb (Part 1)

A secret CIA black site in Alaska has gone dark.

No contact.
No survivors.
And no explanation.

When Division 13 is sent to investigate the facility known only as “The Tomb,” the team expects an containment breach involving the Nullborn prisoners held deep underground.

What they find instead is far worse.

The Tomb is a special three-part story arc.

The nightmare has only begun.

Transcript

Copy

SPEAKER_01 0:00

My name is Hannah Keegan. I'm a lead detective for a top secret New York Police Department Task Force. We're assigned to the unexplained cases that border on the paranormal. This is Division 13. And here are our case files.

SPEAKER_05 0:16

So remind me again why the CIA built a prison in the middle of Alaska. Kendrick asked, as we hit a fresh batch of turbulence. I never did like flying, personally. We were on board a specially modified short C-23 Sherpa aircraft. It was a mod I'd never seen before. It had swiveling leather seats, climate control, and was honestly pretty comfortable, as far as transport planes go. I had to admit, the CIA definitely traveled in style. It was also a very good plane for short takeoff and landing, which is what we needed for this mission. But the small aircraft was awful at handling turbulence. I frequently felt like I had to struggle to keep my lunch down. Focusing on the team's conversation helped me keep my mind off my own discomfort.

SPEAKER_02 0:57

Overton responded to Kendrick, Probably because nobody escapes Alaska.

SPEAKER_05 1:02

As she continued to stare out of the window at the frozen tundra below, Kendrick responded with a vague smile. People escape Alaska all the time. Reina Castillo, the team's operations officer, interjected.

SPEAKER_03 1:14

Yeah, they call it moving south.

SPEAKER_05 1:16

The team chuckled at that, and even I could feel a hint of a smile spreading on my face. I invited Castillo and our weapons officer, Jonathan Jack Miller, along on this mission because I assessed that we needed the additional expertise and firepower. Since we really didn't know what we'd be walking into when we landed, I wanted some extra mission support. These two were some of the best. I noticed a bit of lingering eye contact between Kendrick and Castillo. Looking at Overton, I could tell she noticed as well. Her face seemed to tighten momentarily before she resumed staring out the window into the distance. I made a mental note. Kendrick turned to Overton. You've been staring out that window forever. See anything good?

SPEAKER_02 1:55

Overton replied, I'm watching the terrain.

SPEAKER_05 1:58

Kendrick responded sarcastically. It's snow.

SPEAKER_02 2:02

It's called tactical awareness.

SPEAKER_05 2:04

It's snow. Overton responded without looking away from her outside view.

SPEAKER_02 2:09

It's tactical snow.

SPEAKER_05 2:10

That got another round of chuckles from the team.

SPEAKER_03 2:13

Castillo leaned toward Kendrick, whispering, Ice Queen, she should be right at home here.

SPEAKER_05 2:18

I heard the whisper, and I'm pretty sure Overton did as well. But if she did, she gave no sign.

SPEAKER_02 2:24

Turning to me, she asked, Any idea what to expect at the target site, Cap?

SPEAKER_05 2:28

All I know is what was in the briefing Loretta gave us, I responded. After our last outing, the team's governmental liaison, Loretta Smith, gave us the news that the tomb, our nickname for the Anchorage Alaska CIA black site, was offline. On-site staff had missed regularly scheduled check-ins for three days, and the brass was starting to worry. Since we knew that the null-borne virus-infected humans were being held captive there, I volunteered our team to investigate. To Overton, I continued, we still haven't gotten any word from the tomb, so it's up to us to figure out what happened. Target is located 100 miles northeast of Anchorage, just about halfway to the Canadian border, and we'll be landing at a hidden airfield near the facility. Looking around at the rest of the team, I added, goes without saying I need everyone to stay cool and stay alert, be ready for anything.

SPEAKER_04 3:16

Oh, I'm sure it's something horrible.

SPEAKER_05 3:18

Jack chimed in. In spite of myself, I smiled inwardly at this.

SPEAKER_02 3:22

Overton asked, How do you stay so cool, Cap? I know you've got military training, but just the thought of one of them being in your house. It's just creepy as hell. But I guess you never get scared like the rest of us.

SPEAKER_05 3:37

Swiveling in my seat and turning to look out the window, I responded, Oh, I get scared. More than you know. From the corner of my eye, I could see the shocked reactions of the team. Without turning to face them, I said, Hey, don't look so shocked. I'm human. I get scared. Finally, turning to face them, I hesitated just a moment before deciding it might be good to share. I lost my older sister in a car accident when I was very young. She was my conscience, my guidance system. I paused and then continued. Before I was able to fully process the grief of that loss, my mother got a diagnosis of extremely aggressive breast cancer. By the time we got the news, it was already too late. It spread to her brain. 20 tumors. She was gone a year later. The team was dead silent as I continued. For the longest time, all I felt was rage at the unfairness of life. By the time I got to high school, I was diagnosed with anger issues, and I was headed down the path to becoming a real problem to myself and to others. My dad was there, but he was distant. So he couldn't help much. Clearing my throat, I continued. Luckily, I had this one teacher. I don't know why, but she really seemed to care. She was also a psychologist and taught me how to channel my anger, to turn it toward being productive, helpful. She also got me enrolled in her Krob Magah classes, which helped. By the time I left high school, I had my rage mostly under control. Then came the army. I was a perfect fit. Looking directly at Overton, I concluded, but yeah, I feel fear. But it turns into rage for me. And that, I can use. That I can do something with. Do some good. The team was silent for a moment. Then Overton said, That makes a lot of sense.

SPEAKER_02 5:24

Thanks for that, Cap. Maybe that's a trick I can use.

SPEAKER_05 5:27

I nodded silently in response. In an attempt to change the mood, Kendrick turned to Jack and said, So, Jack, weapons officer, huh? Miller responded with a wry smile.

SPEAKER_04 5:38

That's the fancy title. What's the not fancy title? I make sure the bad guys regret their life choices.

SPEAKER_05 5:45

Kendrick turned to me with a smile and inclining his head toward Miller said, I like him already. My radio crackled as the pilot informed me that we were on final approach. Turning to the team, I said simply, Get ready, we're here. The Sherpa touches down on a short runway which is partially obstructed by snowbanks. It's a testament to the skill of the pilot that we're able to land safely. As we exit the plane, the cold hits me like a solid thing with a life of its own. I find myself extremely grateful for the cold weather gear, gloves, and goggles we all wore. There it is, I say to the team. Through the cold snow blowing and stinging our exposed skin, we see it. The tomb. Barbed wire fences stretching out into the darkness, emergency floodlights cutting through the snow, abandoned watchtowers looming out of the dark, half buried by snowdrifts, and at the center, a concrete bunker door built into the ground. The place definitely looks like its namesake. Like something built not just to hold prisoners, but to bury secrets. Todo, we're not in Brooklyn anymore, Jack remarked, over the wind. Chuckling, Kendrick said, One thing I'm wondering about is why the CIA didn't want in on this up. Plausible deniability, I replied. They're not even supposed to operate on U.S. soil, so you know how it is. If this thing goes sideways, it's on us. I turned to the team and say, this is what I remember about the layout Smith gave me. It doesn't look like much from the outside, but the place has six levels, all below ground. Level numbers go up the further down we go. The nullborn are being held on the bottom level, maximum security. I pause to make sure my info is getting through. Everyone nods in the affirmative. I continue. The facility has a total security team of 36, with nine on duty and rotating shifts, admin and medical staff of eight. All personnel are missing. Total prisoner count is 28, including the nullborn. Billy Rath, Harrison Cole, and the remains of Evelyn Carter are all on level 6. Our primary mission is to find out what happened to the personnel and render aid if needed. Secondary mission is to make sure the nullborn are still secured. Got it? More nods in the affirmative. Level 1 is reception and diagnostics with medical. Level 2 is the personnel living facility. Level 3 is something called the Hades Gate. I'm not sure, but if I had to guess, it's probably a defensive position. Additional security and probably monitoring. Level 4 is the labs, levels 5 and 6 are inmates. After one final check to make sure the team absorbed the information, I nodded and said, let's move in. Our first obstacle was the barbed wire fence running along the perimeter of the property. After double checking to make sure the fence wasn't electrified, Kendrick pulls out a compact bolt cutter and cuts us an entrance. No alarms, no warnings, just silence. Kendrick noted, place seems dead. A single emergency light illuminated the bunker door, barely dispelling the shadows, giving the place a look of foreboding. I shook off the thoughts creeping in at the edge of my mind, settling into my old familiar controlled rage, wearing it like a favorite pair of gloves. The bunker door was solid steel, well-maintained and formidable. Painted all black, it looked impenetrable, but we were about to find out. Looks like I'm up, Jack said, advancing on the bunker entrance.

SPEAKER_04 9:02

A couple chocolate bars on the hinges ought to do. What do you think, Cap?

SPEAKER_05 9:05

You're the pro, I responded, just try not to blow the whole place up. No promises. I could tell he was smiling under his face gear as he pulled a few bricks of C4 from his backpack and began molding and shaping the clay-like explosive around the hinges of the heavy metal door. Finishing up, Jack waved us away to a safe distance as he wired the explosive to a handheld detonator. As Jack joined us behind our position of cover, Castillo asked, Will this blow through a door that thick? Good question, I said to myself. Jack responded, The door?

SPEAKER_04 9:37

Not a snowball's chance in hell. That door looks like it's at least six inches of solid steel. I couldn't scratch it, but the hinges, that's the weak spot. If we hit those, it won't matter how thick the door is. All fall down. Go boom.

SPEAKER_05 9:52

Make it happen, I responded. Fire in the hole, Jack said, pressing the button on the detonator. The explosion wasn't actually as loud as I'd anticipated. Maybe it was partially muffled by the snowdrifts or by the fact that Jack shaped his charges inward at the door hinges. But the lack of massive explosion gave me a moment of doubt. That didn't last long. As the snow cloud kicked up by the force of the explosion dissipated, I could see that the emergency light over the entrance was blown to bits. Too heavy to be completely blown out of its frame, the vault-like door sat partially open, deep darkness behind it. Kendrick and I removed small pry bars from our packs and got the vault open just enough to allow us to enter. The darkness waited, like a living thing watching. Weapons off safety, lights on, I say. I hear multiple clicks as the team readies their M16s and switches on their rifle-mounted lights. As we step through the vault door and into the gloom, the wind from outside dies almost immediately. Dust particles dance in the air as our eyes adjust to the darkness. Descending the first set of steps, the ceiling-mounted emergency lights paint the entire corridor in a shade of red. My mind insists on telling me that this is what it would be like if the walls were covered in blood. I shake that thought off as quickly as it surfaces. Little do I know how accurate that thought would be by day's end.

SPEAKER_03 11:12

Cap, you hear that?

SPEAKER_05 11:14

Castillo said, moving in beside me. I don't hear anything, I said, as I stopped advancing. The place was as quiet as its namesake.

SPEAKER_03 11:22

Exactly. Place like this has to have at least one backup generator. The fact that these emergency lights are still on says there's some kind of power here. But it's definitely not going to HVAC systems, which are pretty critical in a place like this.

SPEAKER_05 11:37

Wouldn't emergency lights run off batteries? Kendrick asked, looking up at one of the red-tinted fixtures.

SPEAKER_03 11:42

Yeah, as a last resort. These lights are low draw, but they'd still only last 3 to 12 hours max, not four days.

SPEAKER_05 11:50

Castillo replied, moving in next to Kendrick to peer closely at the fixture.

SPEAKER_03 11:54

These lights are wired to pull AC from the backup first, battery last.

SPEAKER_05 11:59

So, there is power then. Good to know, I stated, but it's not going to climb at her HVAC. This place is freezing. Wouldn't be survivable for long. You'd think that would be a priority.

SPEAKER_02 12:09

And what is that smell?

SPEAKER_05 12:11

asked Overton. She stepped slightly in front of the group, peering into the darkness of the corridor ahead. She pulled her face covering off and sniffed the stale air. Yeah, I smell it too, said Jack, bringing up the rear. Now that the team mentioned it, I realized I was picking up the same smell in the air. It was a familiar smell, something I remembered all too well from my army days. I hoped to myself that I was wrong in what I was thinking, but the place was so damn quiet. This last I mentioned to the team. Something's obviously off. I need everybody to stay focused, I said. The chamber we stood in was more of a short hallway than anything. There were two doors on either side, with a large double door about 20 feet ahead of us. Nodding toward the gloom ahead, I said, the doors on the sides should all be maintenance and storage. Big doors at the end lead to reception and intake, stairs going down on the far end of that space.

SPEAKER_03 13:02

No power, no elevators.

SPEAKER_05 13:04

No elevators at all, I responded. Places built into a series of underground chambers. Each one is set further back into the cave system, kind of built like steps going down. So we have to cross through each level before we get to the next.

SPEAKER_02 13:17

Kinda makes the place impossible to escape from if inmates have to cross six levels to get out.

SPEAKER_05 13:22

Overton noted. I nodded. You guys know the routine, I said. Let's clear these small rooms first before we move on to the end. Be thorough, and be sure. We don't need anybody creeping up behind us, Kendrick nodded. That's for sure. Kendrick, you and Overton clear right, I said. Jack and I will take left. Castillo, move on ahead and see what we can do about those doors. Nodding, the team got to work. We carefully checked each room with standard procedure, giving the all clear, before moving on. Joining Castillo at the double doors, I found her facing us, with an unreadable expression on her face. What's up? I asked. Do we need to blow the doors? Castillo cleared her throat and shook her head in the negative.

SPEAKER_03 14:03

No, the doors are open. But Cap, somebody's hanging in there.

SPEAKER_05 14:11

I could hear the team shifting in reaction to Castillo's statement. I could feel my face tightening as I approached the doors. The smell was much stronger here. I felt like I could taste it. Castillo, you good? I asked, sympathy edging its way into my voice. If what was on the other side of these doors was as bad as I expected, then I knew how she was feeling. Looking at me, I could see her mentally pulling herself together. I had to give her credit. At her age, I might not have been able to compose myself as quickly. She took a final deep breath and nodded. Turning to the team, I said, Standard breach, fast and low, I'm on point. Pushing through the doors in a low crouch, I entered the space beyond. I thought I was prepared for the worst. I was wrong. Entering the large chamber, my rifle light cut a pale, shaky path through the thick shadows, slicing through the dull red glow of the emergency lights overhead. For a heartbeat, I thought I saw some slight movement, a slow swaying in the stale air. My first thought was that it was a loose cable swinging from the ceiling, but then the beam caught something else. A face, looming out of the darkness, grinning at me. I almost fired before I realized that something was wrong. Horribly wrong. Castillo's warning echoed at the edge of my consciousness.

SPEAKER_03 15:27

Somebody's hanging in there.

SPEAKER_05 15:29

The face was upside down. Coming up behind me, Kendrick almost collided with me. Cap? His voice was barely more than a whisper. I panned my light upwards. The horribly grinning face was attached to the body of a security officer. My mind absently registered the name tag reading, Jenkins, before I continued to pan my light upward. The body was suspended upside down from the exposed ceiling, the ankles wrapped tight with a steel cable that disappeared into the dark shadows of the air ducts like a noose. The uniform was soaked dark with old, crusted blood. The arms were also tightly wrapped with cables, pulled outward to resemble a crucifixion. A part of my mind wanted to reject what I was seeing, the unholiness of the scene. My light moved slowly back downward, across the chest and tactical vest and then back down to the face, or what was left of it. Empty sockets where eyes had been, gaping holes that stared back, sightless. What my mind had initially interpreted as a grin was a neck that had been slashed, the wound gaping wide in a horrible facsimile of a smile. The poor bastard had been hung upside down to bleed out, the floor was sticky with blood. Someone behind me breathed out a prayer. I turned to see Castillo making the sign of the cross over her chest. Cap, there's more, Overton said as her rifle light swept past mine, revealing more shapes. Then more. As the team cast their light around the space, the whole reception hall opened in front of us like some twisted cathedral, full of shadows cast by bodies hanging from steel cables, blood pouring from slashed throats. They hung at every level, some just inches off the floor, others brushing the high ceiling, upside down, arms stretched wide as if awaiting salvation that had never come. In the cold, stale air, the bodies swayed slowly and gently. The smell, it was like a living thing, forcing its way into my nose, invaded my taste buds. My stomach threatened to revolt. Behind me, Jack muttered, Jesus! Empty eye sockets stared back at us from every angle. An unwanted memory flashed across my mind. Me at 13. My mother and I, visiting my uncle who owned a meat distribution plant in upstate New York. I was always impressed when we went to visit my uncle. The big trucks parked along the side of the building, the rough-looking men who loaded packages onto those trucks, and some who fed the cows and their pens out back. As big and scary as some of those men looked, a lot of them still gave me a warm smile when they saw me. I liked it here, and I decided to venture out back to visit some of my friends at work, maybe even get to see some cows. I liked the cows. As my mother and her brother talked their boring adult talk at the service counter, I stuck away from the pair. Walking slowly down a brightly lit hallway, I found that it ended in heavy-duty plastic strips hanging from the ceiling. I had never seen this part of the building before. Part of me knew that I should turn back, but the coppery smell, the sounds of machinery beyond the curtain, it all piqued my curiosity. I parted the heavy plastic sheets and peered into the huge chamber beyond. My young mind could barely register what I saw. Row after row of slaughtered and butchered animals, hanging, suspended from the ceiling, their cowlies reduced to pieces of flesh, bleeding onto the floor. And the smell, the horrible smell. I turned away and vomited before running back to the front of the shop, tears in my eyes. A slaughterhouse. A creaking sound brought me back to the present. Above us, the cables groaned, soft and eerie. For a long moment, no one said a word. Finally, Kendrick broke the silence, voice low and shaky. Who did this? What the hell happened here? Overton stepped forward, eyes cold and hard as she took in the scene. Nobody escapes the tomb, she said, her voice cutting through the quiet like a blade.

SPEAKER_02 19:26

Somebody made sure of that.

SPEAKER_05 19:28

I looked again at the hanging bodies, how they faced the entrance, faced us, displayed like trophies, a gauntlet, a forest of the dead. Feeling my sense of dread and horror slowly transforming into my good old comfortable rage, I spoke. Yeah, somebody sent us a message. Let's send one back. In case file 013-006.