The Tipping Point (Surviving the Fall 9)

“Huh?” Dr. Evans looked at Rick as they turned a corner, winding their way through the street and median as they made for the main entrance of Navy Hill. After being a Navy installation for so long—and the observatory being designated as a National Historic Landmark—the name of the place had stuck even after the State Department took over. Dr. Evans understood that a few of the buildings were used for general offices and administrative spaces, but some had received extensive upgrades on the interiors so that they could house classified projects.

“Watched?” Jane parroted back. “All we’ve done is cross a bridge! How is it we’re being watched by anyone?”

“For one thing, we haven’t just crossed the bridge. We’ve been driving around for twenty minutes trying to get to the front of this complex and I could swear I’ve seen movement in a couple of the buildings, following along with us as we’ve been going.”

“Do you think it could be the Russians?” Dr. Evans asked nervously.

“We don’t even know if there are any Russians here,” Rick replied. “So no, I don’t think so. It’s either some survivors or possibly MS-13, like Recker was saying.”

“Sorry,” Jane said from the back seat, “for those of us who aren’t intimately familiar with the street gangs of the country, can you fill me in on who or what MS-13 is?”

“Mara Salvatrucha. They came out of Los Angeles in the ‘80s and spread to a bunch of different cities. As I recall, the D.C. metro area was one place they had a heavy presence, so in the wake of all of this chaos they probably poured into the city proper to start looting whatever they can.”

“How do you know about MS-13, Dr. Evans?” Rick asked.

Dr. Evans pointed out the window. “Turn left here. It’s sad, actually. One of the programmers I worked with years ago was killed by MS-13 after his kid got tied up with the gang out in LA. I was good friends with him at the time and followed the trial of the eight people involved in the killing.”

“Eight?” Jane’s eyed widened. “They don’t mess around, do they?”

“Nope,” Dr. Evans shook his head. “Recker wasn’t exaggerating; we need to be very cautious if they’re here.”

Rick hesitated. “When I was trying to get out of Los Angeles right after the event I had a brief run-in with a gang. I wonder if they were part of MS-13.”

“Could be. Or it could have been just a group of people taking advantage of what happened. You’re sure you saw someone watching us?”

Rick nodded. “There was movement in some windows and it wasn’t just the sun reflecting off of them. Someone’s in the area. I have no idea who it is, but we need to be careful. They’re going to know exactly where we’re going.”

“And that,” Dr. Evans said,” is right here.” He pointed off to the left at a closed metal gate standing at the base of a sloping drive that curved up and around into the observatory grounds. Rick eased the car to a stop and put it in park, then grabbed his rifle from the rack behind his head and jumped out of the car. “You two stay here while I check the gate. Dr. Evans, get behind the wheel, would you? Just in case we need to make a fast getaway.”

Dr. Evans nodded and climbed out of his seat, jogged around to the driver’s side and climbed in. Once he was settled, Rick slowly walked across the street, turning his head and body as he scanned their surroundings. He gave particular attention to the buildings across the street and next to Naval Hill, eying the windows for any signs of movement. None appeared, though, and he pushed forward across the street, gave one final glance around and turned his attention to the gate.

The wrought iron was thick and heavy, and off to the side where the gate met the wall he could see part of the mechanism that would open and close it on the whim of the

guard who once sat in a small shack a few feet inside. Rick pushed lightly on the gate with one hand, felt it jiggle a bit, and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He grabbed it firmly with both hands and pulled to the right, nearly gasping in surprise as it creaked, groaned and began to move. Finding the gate unlocked and openable wasn’t what he had expected, but the surprise was a welcome one.

Behind him in the car, Dr. Evans watched the gate roll slowly open with great interest and he put the car into drive and turned the wheel. The car crept slowly over the road and median and once the gate was open wide enough for the vehicle to fit through, Rick stepped to the side and waved for Dr. Evans to pull in.

“Keep going,” Rick said through the open passenger window. “Pull it up and around out of sight. I’m going to close this and see if I can lock it up, then I’ll be up to join you.”

Dr. Evans nodded and pulled through, heading up the slope and around the curve before disappearing out of sight. As soon as the car passed by the gate Rick pulled in the opposite direction and soon had it closed again. After looking around on the ground and gate without finding any signs of a way to lock it, Rick ran over to the guard shack and peeked inside. There were a few buttons on a control panel along with a stool, and a small cardboard box beneath the control panel, but no sign of any way to lock the gate even if power had been flowing to both the controls and the gate itself.

“How on earth did they lock it?” Rick muttered to himself as he walked back to the entrance. He glanced over at where the gate met the wall and headed over to look at the mechanism that was sticking through the wall. He crouched down and opened a cover on the mechanism, then grinned as he saw a switch with the symbol of a lock on it. He pressed the switch upward with no small amount of force, feeling something inside the mechanism moving before it finally released, and there was a soft ‘thunk’ in response. Rick stood up and went back to the gate and pulled on it, then nodded with satisfaction as the gate refused to move even under his best efforts.

“There,” he nodded, wiping his hands on his pants. “Someone could still climb over the walls but that should help keep anyone from just wandering through the front door.”

Rick turned and headed up the slope, unslinging his rifle and studying the buildings in the complex for the first time since they had arrived. They were plain and nondescript, looking like they would fit in well in any government or university area, with no outward signs that anything secret or secure was housed in them. He rounded the corner to find Dr. Evans and Jane standing outside the squad car, both of them clutching pistols and looking nervously at a far building in the complex as Rick approached. He grew alarmed as he noticed their demeanor and walked swiftly over to them before whispering.

“What’s up with you two?”

“Just not really liking sitting around here in the open waiting for you,” Jane replied, shifting her weight uncomfortably between her injured legs.

“Let’s get inside, then. Dr. Evans? You want to lead the way?”

“Uh, yes. Just, uh… just give me a moment here.” Dr. Evans wiped his brow as he looked at the cluster of buildings around them, trying to figure out which one might have housed the individuals and hardware used in the development of Damocles.

As the three individuals stood together looking at the buildings, Rick turned his head as he heard a faint rumble from somewhere far off in the distance. Motioning for Jane and Dr. Evans to stay put, he ran back to the edge of the building and looked down the sloping path leading to the gate where they had entered. From the top of the hill—and thanks to the fact that the trees in the area had all shed their foliage due to the season—he could see a fair distance in all directions. He scanned off to the west, toward the river and saw nothing, then realized that the sound was coming from the east and swung around to look in that direction.

Coming down the road, weaving back and forth in between the rubble and the wrecked vehicles, were six motorcycles, their engines loud and their mufflers nonexistent. They were the type of vehicles that would rumble loudly at six in the morning on a Saturday as their riders prepared for two days of fun and adventure before heading back to work, all while their neighbors secretly wished that something would happen to the motorcycles so that they’d never be awoken by them again.