Operation Syria

by William Meikle

  They weren’t out of trouble though, for a dozen or more of the smaller spiders were coming up the wall below Banks and Davies and Davies was struggling to hold them at bay.

  “I’m out,” Hynd shouted.

  The rat-a-tat clacking of the spiders was louder even than their firing or the roar of the chopper as more began to climb.

  *

  The chopper came down on top of them, hovering less than six feet above, the downdraft almost knocking them off their feet until they found their balance in the roar of wind and sound. Banks motioned for Hynd to give him a hand and between them they boosted first Kim, then Maggie up into the arms of a waiting airman.

  The squad fell back under the chopper as they boosted Wilkins up inside. Davies took guard while Wiggins went next, then Hynd leapt up, grabbed the door with both hands, and hauled himself aboard.

  “Last call, lad,” Banks shouted. “All aboard who’s going aboard.”

  Davies threw his rifle for Banks to catch then leapt, more easily than Hynd had managed, catching the waiting arms of Wiggins above and being hauled up into the chopper.

  Three spiders came over the parapet at the same time, giving Banks no option but to strafe them in a burst of fire that emptied the weapon but did the job of blowing the spiders to shreds and sending the pieces tumbling away below. He turned to make his leap for safety and looked up to see Wiggins’ eyes go wide.

  “Jump, Cap, jump now,” Wiggins screamed, “that’s a fucking order.”

  He dropped the rifle and leaped. Wiggins caught his left hand and for a terrible second he swung, one-handed, then almost fell when he felt a weight tug at his left foot. The chopper was already rising when he looked down to see one of the horse-sized spiders, clinging onto his boot by its fangs. He swung up, made sure Wiggins grabbed his free hand, then kicked out with his right foot at the beast’s eyes, feeling something give, something soft, then the weight was gone. He looked down between his feet to see the spider fall back onto the top of the tower, a tower that was already completely overrun by scuttling spiders.

  - 26 -

  Maggie’s heart was in her mouth right up until Wiggins dragged the captain aboard and only then did she start to believe that they might have made their escape. She saw Banks check around his foot.

  “I’ll need a new pair of boots,” he said. “But it didn’t penetrate, thank fuck.”

  The captain went up front and she saw him talking to the pilot and pointing at the tower below them. She went forward herself and looked out the window. The whole hillside swarmed with the spiders and they crawled freely all over the walls and turrets of the old town.

  Banks turned to her.

  “You’re not going to like this,” he said grimly. “But I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Brock and for the members of your team we couldn’t save and for all the folks in that town down river.”

  Maggie saw that the pilot’s hand was over a firing mechanism.

  “I think we can do a wee bit better than tar and sulfur,” Banks said.

  She looked in his eyes and nodded, echoing Kim’s words from earlier that day.

  “Burn them all. Burn the fuckers.”

  The pilot pressed the button and two missiles sped out, trailing flame in the night, diving down into the tower, the first taking out the tower itself, the second disappearing into the depths below. Two seconds later, fresh gouts of flame flared up out of the vents in the hillside, then the whole escarpment, spiders, towers, and the bulk of the old town fell away in on itself into the white spider’s chamber. A wall of dust and smoke rose up, meaning that the chopper had to move away fast. After it banked and turned to bring the escarpment into view again, the smoke was already clearing.

  The whole hill was now no more than a smoking crater, where nothing moved.

  “I’m sorry,” Banks said.

  Maggie patted at where the camera sat inside her shirt.

  “Don’t be. I have the evidence. I’ll be back.”

  She looked down at the crater one last time before the chopper turned away and they lost sight of it.

  “I’ll be back,” she repeated. “I like to dig. It’s what I do.”

  The End

  Read on for a free sample of Tempest Outpost.

  ONE

  Jazmin Hayes shivered in her seat as the UH-60 Black Hawk powered through the night sky towards Tempest Outpost. At just nineteen years old, riding an ex-military helicopter across the sea off the coast of Antarctica was one of the most exciting things she had ever done. The cold took the edge off of the thrill somewhat, but it was – nonetheless – an experience.

  She smiled across at her co-passenger, Claire Flynn, who was accompanying her to her internship. The representative of Icecap Industries was probably only five years or so older than Jazmin, but those five years seemed to make her a grown woman, whereas Jazmin still felt very much like a teenager loose in an adult world.

  “You must be excited?” Claire shouted over the roar of the Black Hawk’s rotors, her English accent thankfully making her more understandable. “Six weeks on an experimental drilling rig. With this on your CV you should have the pick of universities, colleges, apprenticeships…whatever you want. You name it, and you’ll get on it.”

  Jazmin was pleased. She’d been fascinated by geology ever since a family holiday to England’s coast had led to her finding some fossils on the beach. They weren’t exactly dinosaur bones – just some plant imprints – but it had been enough to engage her interest for life. To her, the entire history of the Earth was imprinted in the rock, waiting to be read.

  “Yeah, I can’t wait! So, have you met the crew before? What are they like?”

  “I’ve met Anna Morris – the expedition leader – a few times over the years. She’s a strong woman. Very friendly, but she definitely doesn’t take any shit either. I think you’ll get along just fine.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “I’ve met Cameron Barnett in passing. He’s the one who designed the Prospero. A very bright guy, but his head’s up in the clouds a lot of the time. He’s definitely a dreamer, but as an inventor, I suppose you have to be.”

  Jazmin blinked and wiped her face as a gust of wind brought salt spray in through the half-open side door. “How many crew are there?”

  “Six. Including the two I just mentioned. And us two.”

  “You’re staying on?”

  Claire grimaced. “I’m afraid so. I’m not just your chauffeur. Every nine months Icecap Industries sends someone along to check that the facility is up to code, and that work’s actually being carried out. Essentially I’m just checking that they’re not pissing our money away.”

  “You think they are?”

  “Probably not while Morris is in charge, but who knows what we’ll find when we get there.”

  The light inside the passenger compartment switched from a dull yellow to an ominous red, and the co-pilot’s voice buzzed through a barely functioning intercom. “Ten minutes to landing.”

  Jazmin suppressed a shiver. She didn’t mind shivering in the cold, but didn’t want to show any of her co-workers how nervous she was.

  ***

  Anna Morris and Kurt Townsend, the Geologist, stood on Tempest Outpost’s helipad, scanning the sky for signs of the supply chopper. Strands of Anna’s blonde hair blew loose from her hat and flew across her eyes. She cursed and squeezed them back under its knitted band.

  “You think they’ll have burgers on board? I haven’t had a decent cheeseburger in four months.”

  Kurt harrumphed a laugh. A portly German man, he didn’t joke about much, and he certainly didn’t joke about food. “Maybe. Let’s hope they have cheese, too.”

  “I put in a request for cheese. Cheese and Twinkies.”

  “Do Twinkies work on a cheeseburger?”

  “Twinkies work with anything, Kurt.”

  Another harrumphed laugh. “I think I see them. Over there.”

  Anna looked to where the geologi
st was pointing and couldn’t help smiling to herself. “Yeah, unless there are two helicopters fifty miles out from Antarctica, I think that’s them. Okay, don’t forget to be on your best behaviour around the inspector. She’s around until the next supply drop in six weeks. And make sure everyone’s on best behaviour with the intern as well. A teenage kid on a drilling rig for six weeks is a recipe for chaos in more ways than one.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  They both flinched away from the gusts of water and ice that span across the helipad as the Black Hawk finally touched down, only relaxing as the rotors finally came to a stop. They made their way carefully across the wet, slippery ground and Anna extended her hand to the older of the two visitors.

  “Claire! It’s good to see you again. I was worried Icecap were going to send us a tedious old man like the last time. You ever had to talk about cricket for six weeks solid? I’m surprised I didn’t go full Jack Torrance on that stretch.”

  Claire smiled and shook her hand back. “Captain, this is Jazmin Hayes. She’s your intern until the next supply chopper comes by. Make sure you show her a little bit of everything.”

  Anna took in the small young woman in front of her. Her eyes displayed a nervousness that the rest of the face was trying desperately to hide. “Pleased to meet you. You know what we’re about here?”

  “Uh, drilling and…no, not really. I was just told you were a drilling rig.”

  Anna tutted at Claire. “You guys really need to sort out your briefings. How about we head out of the cold while your goons unload the supplies? Kurt, you can make sure everything gets sent to the right place.”

  “I find any Twinkies and I’ll be eating them all.”

  “You do and you’ll be going for a swim. Come on, girls, let me show you around.”

  Anna led Claire and Jazmin through a drafty wooden door and into a cloakroom warmed by two electric fan heaters. Although the room was probably still below twenty degrees, it felt tropical by comparison. They all shucked their heavy winter coats and followed Claire through another door, down a corridor and into a small canteen area. They helped themselves to tea and coffee, and sat at a Formica table.

  “Okay”, began Anna. “Welcome to Tempest Outpost. I’m Anna Morris, but everyone about Tempest Outpost calls me Captain. I’m not actually a captain, but for the duration of your stay, I’ll be the one in charge. You already met Kurt up on the helipad, he’s our Geologist. Any rocks or strata that Prospero brings up, he’ll be the one leading the analysis. He has an assistant, Bobby. You’ll meet him pretty soon, I’m sure.”

  “What is Prospero?” interrupted Jazmin.

  Anna let the silence hang for a moment to show her disapproval, but moved on without further comment. The intern had flushed red with embarrassment at her own rudeness – she was just excited and nervous, that was all. “The Prospero is the drill that this entire rig is built around. Cameron Barnett – again, he’s hovering around here somewhere – designed a new shape of drill, which is designed to be able to crack through the rock around here with ease. We should be able to take geological samples that have previously been unobtainable.”

  “What sort of samples are you looking for?” asked Claire.

  Anna shrugged. “New fossils, geological data, alien cities buried beneath the ice; who knows? There could even be crude oil. Don’t worry, Miss Flynn. There’ll be something to satisfy Icecap’s balance sheet or investors or whatever.”

  “What is it about the rock around here that requires the Prospero?” asked Jazmin.

  “We don’t really know. All previous attempts with standard equipment have either resulted in very little progress, or in the drills themselves being damaged. So, when Mr Barnett pitched his idea to Icecap, they practically bit his hand off to get it here.”

  The door leading deeper into the rig banged open and two people in dirty overalls stamped in, laughing with each other. They realised how loud they were being, and waved an apology to the three women before heading to the kitchen. With no catering staff, all the crew were responsible for preparing their own meals.

  “That’s the remaining two members of the crew here. The big, black hunk of beef was Roger Caldwell, and the short girl was Betty Harper. They’re the engineers here. So now you know what we’re about and you know who everyone is. Any questions?”

  Claire had started jotting notes on her notepad. “You don’t have any medical staff?”

  “We’ve all received first aid training but, no, there’s no doctor. There’s an infirmary loaded up with some medical supplies – painkillers, plasters, bandages. I think there’s a neck brace and an AED too, but no; no doctors or nurses.”

  “Doesn’t that scare you?” asked Jazmin, wide eyed.

  “No. It just makes us all very careful. Anything else?”

  “What are crew sleeping arrangements? Do you work in shifts?”

  Anna fished a cigarette from her pocket and lit it. “We’re six people – now eight – on a rig designed to house at least ninety people. Don’t worry, everyone has a room to themselves. Hell, you can have five if you want. God knows Roger spreads his stuff around a few to make a little bungalow all of his very own. To answer your other question, no, there aren’t fixed shifts. I run a very loose ship here. You know why?”

  “Why?” asked Jazmin.

  Anna sighed out a cloud of smoke. “I trust us all to get along and do the work because we want to. If someone wants a day off, they can take one, and we all get along great for it. My only problems are when we run low on Twinkies or the Street Fighter machine packs in. This works for a very simple reason: no-one takes a job like this unless they want to work here. I think you two can settle in to this arrangement.”

  Tempest Outpost is available from Amazon here!