“I see I don’t have any options, Chesterton. We have an election coming up this year, so I’ll have to frame this carefully. I’ll have to give it more thought, but I’ll probably say that after due deliberation on this emergency situation you’re talking about, I determined that there was no sovereignty issue for allies to act together as quickly as possible. Blah, blah. Hell, I don’t know what I’ll say, but I’ll be telling Thurston and Malcolm Waters, our chief of the defense staff, to play along with what’s happening until you read us in on what’s really going on at Site 23.
“They’ll also need to talk to whoever is in charge of this fiasco on your end. At least do me a favor and have whoever this person is to tread as softly as possible and be apologetic to our military people.”
“I’ll do that, and sorry again, but we’ll sort all this out later. You also should consider NOT making this immediately known to the Canadian public. I think after a full briefing, you’ll be giving this careful consideration. That’s what I intend on our side.
“One more thing. If there are casualties, they may need medical attention sooner than we could get to them. You have medical facilities and staff not too far from Site 23 . . . well, a lot closer than we do. We may mobilize the small staff we have at Thule, but I’d appreciate your seeing what you could get to Site 23 for at least emergency treatment until people can be airlifted out.”
Chesterton could hear Harper’s heavy sigh. “Let me see what I can do. We should be able to round up doctors and nurses within an hour or two, but we’ll also have to see what aircraft are available that can get to Site 23. They’ll have to land at that runway you use, so you need to check on transportation to the site. I’ll also see if we can get a helicopter there, but the range is a problem.”
“Thanks, Stephen. I appreciate it, and sorry again for all this.”
Harper vented more ire, and Chesterton let the PM express his frustration for another five minutes before ending the call as diplomatically as he could. He then immediately buzzed for his chief of staff, Robert Neller. Bob had been a friend and an aide for many years and didn’t think there was anything he didn’t know about the president personally or his ability to anticipate Chesterton’s actions. He was wrong.
“Bob, I need an immediate meeting. This is absolutely closed, so nothing can get out that the meeting occurred. Get Rennoux, Gilbertson, and Hopkins here ASAP.”
Neller’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment. “What’s up, Mr. President?”
The answer was Neller’s second surprise. “Sorry, Bob. You have no need to know on this one. Not yet. Just get them here and as quietly as possible.”
The chief of staff was annoyed to be cut out of something obviously important, especially considering his and Chesterton’s long history. But they were now in the biggest league of all, and the president of the United States had just given an order.
“Yes, sir,” he said and, without another word, whirled on his heels and was out of an Oval Office door. His aide would help him locate and contact the three persons. All were in D.C. at the moment: Secretary of State Rennoux, Secretary of Defense Gilbertson, and Vice President Hopkins.
CHAPTER 40
HERE THEY COME
The rest of the patrol arrived strung out over several hundred yards, making no attempt to stay clustered, each man pushing as fast as he could. They could see figures running between buildings as they came over a slight rise a mile from the site. All their breathing was labored as they jogged the last mile. The strain on their metabolisms and their inability to pull in sufficient oxygen would normally have forced them to make stops long enough for their fatigued bodies to recover. But not today. Their need to reach the site and fear overrode their physiology.
Zach stopped for a moment on top of the rise. He pulled out his optics and looked back. Starting to spread out behind them were many figures—also moving fast along the north/south valley and less than a mile behind. At best, the patrol had held the distance between them constant—at least, that’s what Zach told the others, although he knew the distance had been slowly narrowing.
Andrew noted something different about Zach since they’d left the second notch. The six of them had started together and stayed that way until about the halfway point. After that, Zach slowly separated from the others as the pace took its toll on the rest of the group. The CIA agent seemed impervious to the strain, breathing deeply and loping effortlessly once they reached the flatter, more barren ground.
Every ten minutes, Andrew tried radioing the site. Twice, he successfully reached the comm center, only to have the connection abort within seconds. He was still within shouting distance of Zach when he called out, “It’s still the damn solar interference.” He gestured holding a microphone.
It had taken them ninety-six minutes to reach the camp—something of a miracle under other circumstances but agonizingly slow for this day. Word reached Sinclair of their approach, and he met them thirty yards south of the main building.
Sinclair wasted no time on preliminary words. “Confirm!” he barked when Zach was twenty feet away.
Zach’s response was equally terse as he closed the gap between them. “Chinese. Armed. About fifty-five left. Minutes behind us. Due south.”
Andrew joined them. Montero and his other two men were fifty to two hundred yards behind.
Sinclair’s expression never changed. “We have to divide their fire so they can’t overwhelm our shooters. I’ve assigned Sergeants Schmidt and Shalton to set up to our west to cover that flank and still be able to provide crossing fire at anything coming straight at us. Scott Goustin is with them. He was in security before moving into tech with the air force.”
Zach glanced west, then east. The site’s buildings stood slightly recessed into the slope of Baldy Ridge, with boulders and rock formations petering out into the flatter land. He could see that the terrain provided only fair protection for covering their flanks, except for a few two- to three-foot boulders to the west. Their eastern flank was flat, devoid of cover.
“I know,” said Sinclair. “I can read your mind. The maintenance people are cranking up all the vehicles in the garages and will scatter them between buildings to our east flank. That’ll provide as much cover as we can on such short notice. Similarly, Schmitt and Shelton are rolling barrels out of the waste building to our west.
“Zach, I’ve placed you to the west with Swackhammer and Hindman. Swackhammer’s a retired marine. Hindman’s not military, but he claims he’s been a hunter most of his life and knows firearms. I took him at his word.”
Sinclair turned to Andrew. “Major, you will be on the east with Jeremy Wingate and Alice Marstyn. Don’t worry about Wingate finding out we know he’s Canadian military. Time for that is over. Marstyn’s ex-marine. Six years’ service. A clerk, but she reminded me of the claim that every marine is a rifleman first.”
Montero arrived, gasping from exertion. “Lieutenant, send one of your other men farther east from where Major Jefferson will be. Yolanda Brown is already there. She’s army and has rifle qualified. They and Jefferson’s group will cover the east flank. Willie Larson will join those two as soon as he can. Schmidt and Shalton will be to our west flank. You and your last man will be with me in the main building.
“All of you, load up on ammunition from the weapons locker. It’ll be chaotic, so we’ll keep what’s left in the main building. Also, emphasize no firing until I start it from my position.”
Sinclair looked south. “Where’s Porter?”
“He’s doing what he can to slow them down,” said Zach. “What about the Claymores?”
“Shit!” said Sinclair. “I forgot about them. How many do we have?”
“Should be ten,” said Zach, turning to Andrew. “Let’s you and me get as many as we can out to the south. I doubt we have more than fifteen minutes before the Chinese are within firing range. That’s assuming they keep coming hard.”
“All right,” said Sinclair, “that’ll change things.
Get the Claymores set up, and I’ll let you two start things off when you think the mines will do the most damage.”
“They have to come right at us now that they know they’ve lost the surprise element,” said Zach.
Sinclair nodded. “If they send all their men straight in, our people on the flanks will provide crossfire. However, if it was me, I’d send squads to flank us on both sides while the rest hold our attention to the front.”
“Dividing their force?” questioned Andrew.
“There’s no good solution to how best attack an alert position like this,” said Zach. “Whatever they do is a risk. I think I agree with Leo’s intuition. However it plays out, it’s going to be short and vicious. I doubt withdrawing and pretending this didn’t happen is part of the Chinese commander’s thinking right now. With their chance to surprise us lost, he’s hoping they can quickly overwhelm our defense. Our best chance is they won’t be expecting so many of us armed and experienced. Even so, once he realizes this, it won’t change what they do. It’ll be to keep coming on hard and wear us down.”
None of the men noticed Zach’s lapse into first names with the site commander. Time for formalities was over.
“Whitey, Willie, and Houdini are trying to organize the rest of the staff,” said Sinclair. “They’re issuing M4s to anyone with a clue how to use them. We’ve got fourteen ex-military who have at least had range experience. Shotguns and pistols are being issued to anyone not likely to shoot themselves or a friendly. The walls of the main building will stop small arms. We’ll have to open the small windows to fire out of. I’m not sure what’ll happen if they have heavier weapons.”
Sinclair turned to Montero. “Lieutenant, here come your other two men. Get them squared away on their stations.” Montero walked away to meet Harris. Shipley trailed but was only fifty yards farther back.
Sinclair checked for anyone within hearing, then lowered his voice to Zach. “Willie is finishing setting several thermobaric charges inside Level 3. If it looks like the site will fall, he’ll set them off, and nothing will be left for the Chinese to salvage that deals with what we know of the Object. Willie has orders to support the left flank as much as he can, as long as he stays mobile enough to set off the charges if necessary. I’ve also changed the nuclear firing system, so only one key is necessary.”
Sinclair didn’t have to explain further.
“I’ll be in the main building. My intent will be to use the nuke if I believe everyone else has been killed or captured and Willie didn’t destroy Level 3.”
Neither Zach nor Andrew had questions. They were both professionals.
Sinclair shook his head. “Coordination is out of the question. I just hope the Chinese don’t do anything surprising.
“Both of you, after setting the Claymores, check the people in your flanking positions and reinforce that they are not to fire until the Claymores go off, firing starts from the main building, or their own positions are in danger of being overrun. As Zach says, our best chance is to hit them as hard as possible before they react to the new conditions.”
“What about calling out for help?” asked Zach.
“Improving,” said Sinclair, “but not enough to be sure we got a clear message out. The meteorologists and Brandstrom, the astrophysicist, say it should clear enough for outgoing messages in another hour or two—which won’t do us any good. However, I ordered our communications people to keep sending, in case a window appears in the solar interference. Of course, even if someone receives our call for help, they couldn’t get here for a minimum of three to six hours, depending on what assets are available and where they are.”
Zach and Andrew took off toward the arms locker. Sinclair shouted after them. “I’ll be in the main building checking with Willie and Houdini.”
Major Peng used binoculars to survey the target as soon as it came in view. His men dispersed, as they’d planned during the submarine trip. Even though surprise was lost, there was no reason or time to alter the plan. He was down to fifty-three men for the assault. Three had been killed in the initial attack by two snipers and a fourth later wounded so severely, he would have had to be carried, so he was shot by his squad leader. Peng was also forced to leave two men to keep the gunman from sniping at his men as they continued toward the objective and to secure their return to where the submarine would pick them up. Another man had sprained an ankle when a rock rolled under his foot and his leg slid into a crack. The man was unable to keep up but was mobile enough to be left to make his way back to the submarine pickup point.
Peng wondered whether he should have ordered their two machine guns to go with the flanking squads. He figured breakthroughs would occur there if resistance was heavier than expected. Yet there was no time to change anything. The gun crews would set up a position between the flanking squads and the main group and would provide covering and crossfire.
Peng positioned himself behind the two squads making the frontal assault. With him were seven men with RPGs and satchel charges. They would be committed when appropriate and used as reinforcements as needed. The original plan was to take the objective by surprise and use the machine guns and RPGs only if necessary. Peng was afraid it might be necessary, which would make it impossible to leave no signs of combat.
Once the objective was secure, the occupants were to be quickly assessed for intelligence value—the most useful to be taken back to China, the others moved to where the local asset said an underground stream could be accessed via an open fissure. There, they would be shot and tossed into the underground stream to be carried away and lost to searchers. If everything had worked perfectly, the Americans and the Canadians would have been faced with a shocking mystery—an abandoned base with no people and no sign of what happened. Now that part of the plan was impossible. He told Captain Lin, his second in command, and the squad leaders that all weapons were free to be used as soon as resistance appeared, including the machine guns. He retained control of the RPGs.
Zach and Andrew set new records for placing seven Claymores fifty yards south of the buildings. They also violated every possible safety protocol. Andrew cursed when they opened the Claymore case labeled as holding ten mines and found two missing—Zach promised himself to look into where the other two went if he survived the next hour. An eighth Claymore had a broken wire to the firing mechanism, the “clacker.”
The mines could be fired from a single clacker, but time was too short to set up all the connections. Four Claymore wires ran to an unhitched dozer blade next to the Waste Building where Zach planned on positioning himself, along with Swackhammer and Hindman.
The three other Claymore wires led to where Andrew’s group would take position behind vehicles moved to provide cover.
As they finished connecting the last wires, Andrew called out. “Zach, I’ll make a quick sweep of the buildings on this side to see if everyone is out and the people are set in our flanks. You do the same on your side.”
Without a word, Zach took off.
From seven hundred meters away, Peng saw two men running back and forth between buildings. He couldn’t see if they were armed. The inside contact had reported that the only armed men were the five military personnel who changed every few months and a pistol-carrying aide to the objective’s commander. If those were the only opposition, Peng’s men would take casualties but should hardly slow down as they overran the buildings.
He didn’t know how to account for the unanticipated sniper rifles, but there was no time for second-guessing or hesitation. He had pushed his men as hard as the terrain allowed, fearing the site team’s warning would allow the Americans and the Canadians to destroy records and computers before they could be captured. However, even if that happened, there should be enough prisoners taken to satisfy his superiors.
He watched as the two flanking squads moved quickly ahead. He’d halted the rest of the men to allow the squads to get forward enough so that when the entire unit moved on the objective, they would be in an arc
enveloping the site against the ridge the base sat against. It was a mistake—giving the defenders several extra minutes.
Zach reached the rec building, opened the inside door, and shouted, “Anybody here? Anybody here, get your ass over to the main building!”
No one answered.
Next was Dormitory 1. He raced down the first floor’s corridor, pounding on every other door and yelling. At the end of the hall he took the stairs three at a time to the second floor and repeated his warnings. From there, he flew down the stairs, burst out the door, and ran toward Dormitory 2.
“Zach! I think they’re coming!” Hindman called out from Zach’s assigned position. When he heard the words, he was already opening the Dorm 2 door and froze. Halfway down the hall, barefoot and dressed in a robe, was Jill holding Bobby. He ran up to her.
“Jill, you’re supposed to be in the main building with the others! You need to get yourself and Bobby inside your rooms and hide.”
“Hide where!” she cried out. “What’s happening? I was in the shower with Bobby. We were singing. I didn’t hear the alarm until I turned off the water. I saw the alert from the general on the monitor. Who are these people? The general just said we might be under attack.”
He didn’t have time to take her into the main building. Shooting could start any second.
“There’s no time for talking, just get yourself and Bobby inside and stay there. Go to your room. Lock the door. Don’t answer until I come for you.”
She nodded, shaking, but listened to him with eyes that said she was grasping at something that told her the right thing to do.
Zach hesitated, then pulled a pistol from his webbing and held it out to her by the barrel, the handle toward her. “Do you have any idea how to use this?”
Harbinger (The Janus Harbinger Book 1) Page 53