Goliath

by Richard Turner

Romanov mining camp

  Dragon’s Fire

  Dragon’s Fire was a midsized, barren, ice- and rock-covered island, which, from above, resembled a giant horseshoe with a long-dormant volcano jutting out in the middle of the landmass. Reaching up almost a kilometer and a half, the volcano’s last recorded eruption was in the fifteenth century, the result being the formation of a large fracture on the eastern edge of the volcano. Because of the cover afforded by its sheltered bay, a thriving fishing and whaling community used the island for several hundred years. The Danes had constructed a tall, circular, stone Martello tower overlooking the bay, in order to protect their ships and keep the island safe from the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars. Aside from a few birds that called the island home, not a soul had stepped foot on the island for decades, until it was leased to the Romanov Corporation, which had built a small mining camp at the base of the volcano, near an old, long-abandoned whaling camp.

  A recent snowfall covered the island with a thick, white blanket. In the dark, three shapes moved cautiously forward along the windswept side of the volcano. In the lead, Jackson dropped to one knee while he took a good look around them. So far, they had not seen a soul, but that didn’t mean that the people in the mining camp did not patrol the island during the night. Behind him was Sam. She carried her M4 carbine, and on her back, a stripped-down med-kit. She hoped to keep it shut the whole time, but experience had taught her to be ready for anything. Last in line was Cardinal, also carrying an M4; however, strapped across his back was a Barret .50 cal sniper rifle. In the hands of a good sniper, it was capable of hitting a man at two kilometers—and Cardinal was among the best.

  Yuri, flying barely a meter above the waves, had flown a long and circuitous route to the island, dropping them off just after two in the morning on the far side of the island. Hoping to avoid detection by the Imperator’s radar, Yuri headed back out over the Atlantic. First flying east, and then north, to a small fishing community on the southern shore of Iceland, he and Fahimah now anxiously waited for a signal from Jackson to return to the island to pick everyone up. Mrs. March had remained in the safe house in Reykjavik, awaiting word of the mission’s fate. All alone, she knew it would be the longest day of her life.

  Jackson crawled forward on his stomach until he reached a rocky outcropping. He raised his head and looked down into Romanov’s mining camp. His winter-white uniform easily blended in with the frozen terrain. Carefully bringing up his thermal imaging binoculars, Jackson swept the darkened camp. He could see an electrified fence running the entire perimeter of the camp. He watched two men with guard dogs, as they walked along the fence, looking like bright glowing spirits against a cold dark background. The men chatted away as they strolled along, not paying any attention to the world outside of the camp.

  Jackson smiled; he loved amateurs.

  He looked back toward the center of the camp and saw several prefabricated office buildings, with a few snow-covered, all-terrain vehicles parked in the open. A dirt road from the camp meandered up to a darkened tunnel dug into the side of the rocky volcano. A couple of dump trucks and a bulldozer rounded out all that Jackson could see from his vantage point. He called Sam and Cardinal forward and quickly oriented them to the ground.

  Without any change in signal from Mitchell, Jackson was still planning to try to rescue him and Jen from the Imperator later that day. Seeing that the Martello tower had a commanding view of the mining camp as well as an unobstructed view of Romanov’s ship, Jackson led his small team back off the ridgeline and down into the low ground. They moved as quickly as they could over to the old tower, wanting to gain cover before the sun began to creep up on the horizon. When they arrived at the base of the fortification, Jackson could see that it would have been an imposing defensive position. It stood over a dozen meters high and was twenty meters in circumference, with walls that looked about a meter or more thick. Jackson popped his head inside an opening where a wooden door had once stood, and took a quick look around. The ground floor was empty. He could imagine at one time that the tower’s supplies were stored there. A set of stone stairs led upward. With a nod, he led Sam and Cardinal to the second floor, which surprisingly still had several wooden tables sitting there, as if expecting the soldiers to return and have their breakfast meal. Sam smiled when she saw an old brass cannon still sitting there, aimed out over the bay. They soon found another set of stairs leading up. Cardinal crept his way up and out onto the open top floor, where a wooden roof had once covered the top of the tower. As expected, Cardinal could see for kilometers in any direction. With a smile on his face, he knew this vantage point would do just nicely.

  Jackson decided that they would rest there for the day. He checked in with Fahimah and told her what they were planning. With a wish of good luck, Fahimah told Jackson that she would contact O’Reilly and pass on what was going on. Now, all they could do was get as comfortable as possible, and wait for dark.

  Cardinal took the first watch, scanning the camp through the scope of his sniper rifle, taking the time to identify possible future targets. His watch soon passed without incident. He was about to head below and wake up Sam, when he heard the unmistakable sound of rotor blades, closing in fast. He picked up his binoculars and scanned the gray sky for any sign of the intruder. Seconds later, a large shape appeared. Cardinal was not surprised, after what they had been through, to see that the helicopter was flying without its running lights. As it grew closer, Cardinal could see that slung underneath of the helicopter was something large and rectangular. A cold shiver raced down Cardinal’s back. He did not know how, but he was certain that this was the same sea container that he had seen airlifted out of Romanov’s oil refinery in Mauritania. There’s no way this could be a coincidence, thought Cardinal, as he dashed below to wake Sam and Jackson, only to find them already up and looking out the cannon’s firing port, searching the sky for the helicopter.

  “Company coming?” asked Jackson.

  “Yeah, there’s a heavy-lift chopper coming toward the mining camp,” explained Cardinal. “It looks like it’s got a sea container slung underneath.”

  At the camp, infrared strobe lights, naked to the visible eye, came to life, marking the landing zone for the helicopter. With a practiced move, the helicopter slowly came in and smoothly deposited its precious cargo on the ground. Seconds later, men ran from the office buildings and swarmed all over the container, releasing it from its chains. With a slight rev of its engines, the chopper banked off to the left, and then quickly disappeared out to sea and away from prying eyes.

  The instant the helicopter disappeared from sight, a group of heavily armed men emerged from the tunnel entrance. A lean, tough-looking man with thick, dark hair and an eye patch surveyed the area, and then spoke into a Motorola. Instantly, all of his men readied their weapons and quickly fanned out throughout the camp.

  Sam said, “I wonder what the hell is going on down there. What could be so important to them that they had to fly it in here at the crack of dawn?”

  “Not sure,” responded Jackson. “Not sure I really want to know, either.”

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