Earthfall (Book 2): Earthfall 2 [The Mission Continues]

by Knight, Stephen

  It also revealed human silhouettes on either side of the idling SCEV, hunkering down in hide sites that might have been invisible to the human eye, but were transparent to millimeter wave radar.

  “Well. Look at that,” Mulligan said.

  “Jesus.” Andrews’s mouth suddenly went dry. “They’re here. On overwatch.”

  “Yep. Looks like.” Mulligan examined the display silently for a moment, then turned and looked at Andrews. “Orders?”

  Andrews considered it for a full minute, turning things over in his mind. This is what they’d come to discover—survivors of the Sixty-Minute War. But memories of contact with Law’s group in San Jose were the first thing he thought of. If the people lying outside the rig were hostile, what was the best way to approach them?

  “They watched us roll up, Mike,” Leona said from the second compartment. She and KC were looking at the same data as the two men in the cockpit. “They haven’t taken any action against us yet.”

  “It’s probably not every day an armored all-terrain vehicle rolls up to their front door,” Mulligan said. “But they aren’t moving very much. With all the lights and the engine noise, they have to know we’re here, even through the storm. So they’re doing what we’re doing. Watching and waiting.”

  “So let’s give them a bone,” Andrews said slowly. “I think it’s probably on us to make the first move.”

  “Agree,” Mulligan said, and Andrews was surprised by that. Mulligan activated the forward-looking infrared turrets located at the front and rear of the SCEV and panned them in opposite directions. The front slewed to the right, while the rear turret slewed to the left. The supercooled planar arrays in both units picked up the radiant heat of the bodies lying out in the woods, though it could not display them completely. “They’re lying behind earthen berms. Actual fighting positions, like revetments,” Mulligan said.

  “Makes sense. I’m going to contact them over the loudspeakers. I’ll ask them to approach.”

  “Roger that. In the meantime, I’d like to take the minis off standby and put them in manual mode. Just in case things blow up, I’d like you to reverse a hundred meters or so. That way, I’ll be able to engage both groups while we retreat. They’re well inside the minimum range of the Hellfires, so it’ll have to be guns if we need to defend ourselves.”

  “Understood. Lee, KC, we’re going to try and contact those folks outside. Keep an eye out and keep your harness straps pulled tight. If we have to move, I’ll reverse us at max power down the hill. Could be rough.”

  “Roger that, Mike,” Leona said.

  “Got it,” KC affirmed.

  “Okay. Going onto the loudspeaker.” Andrews flipped a switch on the radio panel on the center console, then pressed the red transmit button on the control column. “People to the left and right of this vehicle. We’re not hostile. Please send a delegate to the right side of the rig. We’re here to help you, not fight you.”

  Andrews watched the displays, both the radar and infrared. The people started moving, but not in a meaningful way. More likely, they were looking at each other, trying to figure out what to do. That they’d been detected under cover was likely unsettling to them.

  “I see rifles,” he said, examining the infrared imagery.

  “Yep,” Mulligan replied.

  “Mike, have some electromagnetic activity,” Leona said. “Looks like they have radio comms with each other.”

  “Frequency?”

  “GMRS format, broadcasting on four-six-two point five-six-two-five. Ah, we can catch that, it’s on the UHF spectrum. I’m rolling onto that freq on the set back here.” There was a pause. “Okay, the signal’s encrypted. Getting good directional slices though, they’re definitely talking back and forth.”

  “Interesting,” Mulligan said. “They have radios, and more importantly, they have a way to charge the batteries. Let’s give them a frequency, Captain. They can talk to us over the radio.”

  Andrews looked over at Mulligan and grinned. “Damn, Sarmajor. Great idea. Let’s roll them over to, uh, point five-eight-seven-five?” He flipped the SCEV’s primary radio set from HF to UHF and dialed in the frequency. “Huh, they’re using interstitial channels as opposed to primary.”

  “Probably less of a chance of anyone listening in ... which makes me wonder if there is someone else out there listening in,” Mulligan said. “And if so, what does that mean?

  “We won’t know until we talk to them,” Andrews said. “Right?”

  “Roger that, sir. Anyway, if they can broadcast unencrypted, that frequency should do. Unless they want to give us the private key for their commo, but I’m going to presume that’s not happening,” Mulligan said.

  “All right. Let me pass that on to them.” He paused for a moment. “That should freak them out even more, when we tell them what freq to tune their radios to.”

  Mulligan snorted. “Looking forward to that.”

  Andrews pressed the transmit button on the control column. “People on either side of the vehicle. Roll your handsets over to four-six-two point five-eight-seven-five unencrypted. If you don’t want to approach the vehicle, we can communicate over the radio. Again, that’s five-eight-seven-five. We’ll be waiting to hear from you.” As he spoke, he watched the figures through the IR and MMR returns. Those to the left were picking up and moving out. As were some on the right, but not all. They’d rightly reasoned that the rig had enough tech on it to see through conceal-only cover, and they were moving for denser protection.

  “Again, that’s four-six-two point five-eight-seven-five,” Andrews said over the loudspeaker. He heard his own voice echoing off the terrain, even above the rain that continued to pour across the SCEV’s armored hide. That didn’t cause any of the people outside to pause. They quickly filed off into the dark forest, moving quickly and surely. They knew the local geography, and they were actually heading downrange, in the direction of Sisters.

  “They couldn’t still be using the town?” Andrews mused.

  “Nah. It’s a diversion. They’re not going to want us to know which direction their base is. Curious that they’re out here in such numbers watching the barricade. Makes me wonder if there’s something up that we don’t know about.” Mulligan fell silent for a moment, watching the displays. “That’s a fair amount of manpower out there ... I see about eight folks total. I’m thinking that means there’s a pretty sizeable establishment around here somewhere.”

  Andrews pointed at the infrared imagery. “Got two hanging back on the right. Nothing else on radar, so no one’s trying to sneak up on us. The others are definitely bugging out.”

  “I doubt they’re bugging out, just relocating to another engagement site. They don’t want us wiping them out all at once if things go badly,” Mulligan said. “They’ll want to keep us under surveillance for as long as they can.”

  Andrews sat and waited for another minute, then switched off the external speaker and rolled his headset over to the selected GMRS frequency. “This is Mike Andrews, commander of Self-Contained Exploration Vehicle Four. If you’re listening, please respond. Over.”

  He and Mulligan watched the pair of silhouettes lying on the ground to the right of the SCEV. They were about two hundred feet from the road. One of them had what looked like an AR-style rifle pointed at the rig, which was going to be about as useful as a can opener in an attack. The other person simply watched the idling vehicle, sitting motionless in the rain. Andrews wondered if they were at least somewhat dry, as they were shielded by the branches of two pine trees. Their heads moved. They were talking amongst themselves. The fidelity of the infrared was better than the radar, and Andrews was able to get a general idea of their dress: pants, coats, hoods. Each carried a rifle and a small rucksack. He watched the smaller of the pair raise something to his face.

  “Who are you?” Not a him—a her. The voice that came over the radio was female. Her voice was a flat monotone.

  “Captain Mike Andrews, United States Army. Who
are you? Over.”

  “What do you want?”

  “We’re here to assist. We’re from a federal reservation in the south. It’s a complicated story, but our mission is to restore the United States. We have access to supplies, medicine, weapons, technology ... anything you guys might need.” Andrews paused for a moment. “This might go better if we can meet face to face. I’m willing to meet you with one of my crew outside the vehicle.”

  “Where in the south?”

  Andrews looked at Mulligan, who shrugged. “Tell ’em. It’s not like they’ll ever be able to drop by for a visit.”

  “We’re from an installation called Harmony Base, located in western Kansas. Over.”

  “Kansas was wiped off the map.”

  “The surface of Kansas was, that’s for sure. But we’re a couple of hundred feet beneath the ground. Harmony is a subterranean base. Like I said, it’s complicated. There’s a lot to discuss. We should meet. Over.”

  There was a few minutes of silence as the two people out in the forest discussed it. Andrews saw their heads moving.

  “More radio chatter on the first freq,” Leona said. “Now more on another. Point seven-one-two-five. Got returns coming from almost due north of our position.”

  “That’s gotta be where their base is,” Andrews said. He began scrolling through a map on the multifunction display in front of him. “Not a lot out there. Small town called Sherwood ...” He tapped the icon for the town, and another window opened displaying what little data there was in the computer regarding the community. “Hmm, maybe ‘town’ is a bit of a stretch. Says here it’s an ‘unincorporated census-designated community,’ whatever that means.”

  “Means there was never any formal government,” Mulligan said. “Could be anything. A camping ground, a resort, even a retirement community.”

  “If it’s a retirement community, does that mean we get to drop you off?” Leona asked.

  “Where did you get all of this sarcasm from?” Mulligan said.

  “Gee, I wonder,” she replied.

  Mulligan groaned. “Typical.” To Andrews: “It makes a little bit of sense if these folks set up shop there. I mean, no prying eyes, no real oversight, but close enough to Bend in case someone needed something drastic, like emergency medical care. Otherwise, it’s just a speck on a map out here in the boonies.”

  The radio crackled again. “What if we don’t want any help from you?” the woman asked. As she transmitted, lightning arced across the sky, blurring the transmission with a burst of static.

  “Come talk to us, at least,” Andrews responded. “You send two, we’ll send two. We have to stay near the vehicle for security purposes, but you won’t be harmed. Over.”

  “Wait,” came the response.

  “Roger that,” Andrews replied. He and Mulligan watched the displays, waiting for their correspondents to come back to them. It took a while, but in the meantime, Leona reported that the radio traffic was continuing on the other bands. The radio direction finder didn’t indicate any transmissions were coming from the pair of shapes lying to the right of the rig, it was all coming from the west and north. The two people in the forest were in listen-only mode, but Andrews was certain they were getting directions from a higher authority.

  “Well, at least the rain is starting to taper off,” Mulligan said.

  “Kace, how’s everything with the rig?” Andrews asked, even though he had all the data available to him. He just wanted something to do, and discussing the weather with Mulligan wasn’t particularly inviting.

  “We’re totally good to go,” KC said. “If there was a problem, I’d let you know.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Andrews fidgeted in his seat. “I wonder if we can break their encryption,” he said.

  “In a while we might be able to,” Leona said. “I’m running it through the OpenSky and triple-DES decryption programs, but I’m not coming up with anything. These folks might have come up with their own encryption scheme, though. If that’s the case, then we’re out of luck. I’m letting the computers take a swing at it, but it’s going to soak up a lot of bandwidth.”

  “Well, keep at it,” Andrews said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “And it’s not like we have anything else to do right now,” Mulligan said.

  “What, you bored now, Big Sarge?”

  “Vacillating between boredom and stark terror, actually.”

  Andrews frowned. “Terror?”

  “Yeah.” Mulligan jerked a thumb toward the pair in the dark forest to the right of the vehicle. “For all we know, these guys could be coordinating an attack with anti-armor weapons. Or, they could just be lying out there getting soaking wet.”

  “You’re thinking too much, man,” Andrews said.

  Mulligan looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Do not get complacent, Andrews. Anything can happen out here, and we’re far from help.”

  Andrews was about to respond when the woman’s voice came over the radio again. “We’re coming. We’ll listen to what you have to say, but that’s it. And we won’t stay for long. You agree?”

  “Roger, we agree. Myself and one of my crew will meet you on the right side of the vehicle. We’ll be out in just a few minutes. And thank you.”

  There was no reply, but the two people in the forest gathered their gear and slowly, cautiously rose to their feet. Tentatively, they threaded their way through the pine trees, heading toward the idling SCEV.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The rain had slackened by the time Andrews and Mulligan alighted from the SCEV, but it still pattered down from the gray skies overhead. It was getting darker now, not just because of the clouds but because the day was slowly winding down. Both men were in full battle rattle at Mulligan’s insistence: ballistic helmets and body armor, complete with plating, eye protection, gloves, tactical vests, and pads on their knees and elbows. They also wore rucksacks containing three days of supplies and tactical essentials, just on the off chance they should somehow become separated from the vehicle. Andrews had to hand it to the sergeant major. He wasn’t fooling around and taking any chances. And of course, both men were armed with rifles equipped with grenade launchers and wore sidearms on their belts.

  “Commo check,” Mulligan said as he walked down the ramp to the ground. He held his rifle at low ready as he scanned the nearby tree line. Their guests had advanced to the forest’s nearest edge, but remained hidden from sight to the naked eye. Andrews already knew where to look, thanks to the rig’s surveillance tech.

  “Good commo,” Leona replied immediately. “Stay voice-activated, guys.”

  “You got it, Lee.” Andrews climbed down and stood beside Mulligan, keeping the stock of his rifle pressed into his armpit, its barrel pointed at the roadway. The rig’s engines whined away, a dull roar that would probably serve to keep the radio transmission open just from the background noise.

  “I have a visual on one,” Mulligan said, speaking just above the noise of the SCEV. “About seventy meters away. Both in ghillie suits, weapons oriented on us.”

  “Let’s give them that one for free,” Andrews said. He couldn’t see them at all, even though he had to be looking right at them. Whatever camouflage they wore was extremely effective at breaking up their physical outlines.

  “They’re positioned just outside the right minigun’s max azimuth,” Mulligan replied. “Lieutenant, if we need fire support, you’re going to have to reverse about twenty feet or so. If they open up, Andrews and I won’t have time to find a lot of cover, so you guys just roll back and start shooting.”

  “Roger that. Clear of the airlock?”

  “We’re clear, Lee,” Andrews said.

  The airlock’s outer doors hissed closed and locked. The two men looked directly in the direction of the people at the edge of the forest. For almost a minute, nothing happened. Then Andrews saw a measured, subtle movement. One of the individuals slowly rose, moving cautiously but deliberately. From the size alone, he could tell it was
a woman, though the bulkiness of the ghillie suit she wore served to mask her sex. Carrying a rifle a little higher than he liked, she advanced toward the vehicle, her gait unhurried. She stopped at the edge of the roadway, about fifteen feet from Andrews and Mulligan. The hood she wore left most of her face in shadow, but Andrews could see she wore a balaclava that hid her nose and mouth. The only feature exposed to him were her eyes. They were a pale but still intense green, a shade he didn’t think he’d ever seen before.

  Andrews gave her a curt nod. “Hi. I’m Mike Andrews. The man beside me is Command Sergeant Major Mulligan.”

  The woman with the green eyes looked from Andrews to Mulligan, then back to Andrews. “You guys have been eating pretty well.” Her voice was on the husky side, still feminine, but shot through with an undercurrent of power that the drone of the engines couldn’t disguise.

  “Sorry?”

  “Compared to most of the people I’ve seen over the past few years, the two of you are almost obese. Haven’t had to skip many meals, huh?”

  Andrews smiled thinly. “I guess not, no. Do you have a name?”

  “Yeah.”

  Andrews waited for a few seconds. “Okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s not important, I guess. Listen, like I was—”

  “How many of you are in there?” The woman nodded toward the SCEV behind them.

  “We have a normal complement of eight crew. Six mission specialists, headed up by the vehicle commander and executive officer.”

  The woman turned her green eyes toward Mulligan, who hadn’t moved a muscle since emerging from the SCEV. “You must be the mission specialist of war. Am I right?”

  “Only when necessary, ma’am. There’s been enough of that to go around, I imagine,” Mulligan said.

  “How old are you?”

  “Fifty-three.”

  “Don’t see too many people in your age group these days.”