The Pilot

by Michael Cole

  Seymour gazed at the open area. For several hundred feet, bodies of North Korean Ilgob Daelyug lay motionless, smothered in a mixture of mud and the bizarre slimy substance growing on the surrounding plants. Some lay on their sides, others on their backs. A horrified, final expression was frozen on each of their faces. Seymour counted at least thirty human corpses.

  Scattered amongst the dead soldiers were the bodies of several hundred animals. Different species of all shapes and sizes, indigenous to the island, lay frozen in the dying wilderness. White cranes, now grey from the strange substance in their feathers. Giant salamanders, racoon dogs, wild boar, Sika deer, monkeys, and various other species lay still as ice.

  A strange object protruded from the center torso from each corpse. Each was charcoal-colored, and had an organic appearance. Some were small, resembling a charcoal-colored bulge, with red veins lining the skin. Others were in a different state of growth. Like a plant growing from a pod, the strange orb retained a roundish appearance, protruding upwards from a stem embedded in its host.

  Easley glared at a particularly large pod, whose stem was rooted in the chest of one of the soldiers. It stood like a small tree, four feet tall, which led him to assume this thing, whatever it was, was a more mature version of the strange ‘bulge.’ Though having an odd appearance, its shape and method of growth reminded Easley of mushrooms. He looked down at the body from which it grew. It was shrunken, the soldier having lost all identity. It shriveled into its clothes, which were now two sizes too big. The jaw stretched open, two inches past the joint limit, the eyes shriveled, like dark yellow grapes that had been crushed.

  He gulped as he held in his bile, and looked away.

  The team spread out, maintaining a perimeter. Each member grew increasingly unnerved. Even Rex and Ivan, the two macho touch guys of the group, were now antsy. It was clear these bodies did not randomly end up here, but had been deliberately moved to this location. Both men clutched their machine guns, while constantly looking out into the surrounding jungle. Every whistle of the wind, each sway of a branch generated shadows of some silent unknown killer. They couldn’t help but suspect they were being watched.

  Nagamine emerged from the depths of the woods, having scouted nearly a half mile. He looked at Seymour and shook his head. There were no tracks, other than a few faint ones leading to the burnt area. Rex huffed, hoping that the tracker would be able to dig up some answers. He clenched his teeth together, balancing on the toes of his boots, eager to move.

  “It’s a fucking gravesite,” Rex remarked. Ivan started nodding his head.

  “Yeah…mission accomplished. Clearly, nobody left for us to kill. I say we get the hell out of dodge,” Ivan remarked. “Boss, whattaya say? Look, even the Agent lady looks like she’s gonna be sick!”

  Hawk had stepped further into the jungle. With rubber gloves on her hands, she approached one of the trees. It was withered and discolored, the bark flaking off its trunk like greyish-brown dandruff. She pinched a six-inch piece of bark and pulled it free. She tipped it, dripping several drops of the strange fluid into a vial. She capped the vial and placed it into her pack.

  “Everybody, maintain focus,” Seymour said. His voice was tranquil. He knelt down by one of the bodies. The Korean lay flat on his back, his arms bent at the elbows, fingers crooked as though he was still holding an assault rifle. He looked to the dead man’s chest. The black uniform shirt was torn open.

  “You know about this, Agent?” he asked, pointing to the strange round substance. Hawk was silent as she knelt nearby to examine the oddity. It resembled the cap on a mushroom, even containing a stem that embedded itself deep in the soldier’s flesh. Veiny lines reached about, red in color along the bottom of its stem. She looked up at the vast gravesite. Every corpse had something growing from it. Each were in different stages of growth. The larger ones took a form resembling pod plants; the corpses from which they grew were withered and shrunken.

  “It’s like that thing we saw on that boar,” Rex said. To his right, he watched Sutton kneel by a dead walrus. Several pods grew from its enormous hide, each bulky in its own shape. A small wound opened up along its shoulder. He removed a q-tip from his pouch and inserted one end into the wound. The blood was red and thin. “Doc…I’m not sure I’d be messing with that,” Rex said.

  Sutton stood up. “I think, for the first time ever, I agree with you.” He looked at Seymour, his eyes expressing urgency. “Sir, I think we ought to go.” Hawk whipped herself around.

  “No! We leave after we’ve secured the bunker and the data,” she said.

  “Sir…we’re either dealing with a new species, or these scientists have cooked something up here on this island.”

  “Seymour,” Hawk raised her voice, “once we’ve secured the facility then…”

  “What do you mean, Doc?” Seymour said to Sutton, cutting Hawk off.

  “Sir, this could be a viral infection, or the result of some bio-organic, or chemical experiment…I don’t know. Whatever the case, these things are growing from their hosts. On that note…I’m not even sure everyone…everything…here, is dead.”

  “The fuck you talking about?” Rex said.

  “I checked the blood on that walrus. It’s red and oxygenated. By the looks of it, it’s flowing through its body. Dead blood would not look like that. By all accounts, it’s technically alive. Though, probably not for long, as you can see in some cases.” He pointed to the shrunken bodies. “I don’t know how it happened, don’t think I want to know. But frankly, we’re not equipped to handle it.”

  “That’s enough!” Hawk said, pointing a finger at Sutton’s face. He squared up, showing no intimidation. Hawk turned and looked to Seymour. “We are not leaving until we’ve secured the bunker, and collected the data.”

  “You do realize, Agent Pigeon,” Ivan said. Fuming, Hawk turned toward him. “…these guys were taken out, and clearly they had a lot more manpower. What makes you think the same thing won’t happen to us?”

  “Here-here,” Rex said.

  “We’re here to save hostages,” Hawk said.

  “How do we know there’s any hostages to save?” Rex said.

  “Who exactly is this Dr. Trevor?” Sutton said.

  “Yeah…and if this is so “Top-Secret,” how the hell did North Korea get wind of it?” Ivan said.

  Sutton nodded. Wow! For once, he shows intelligence.

  “I’d say we’re covering up a hot mess,” Terrie said. Hawk stuttered, immediately hating herself for doing so. She felt a mutiny billowing amongst the team. Everyone gathered in on her. Seymour stood silent, allowing it all to happen. Even Terrie, the one member who showed her a sliver of respect, had now turned against her.

  “I can’t…” She stuttered again. She grew tired of repeating the word classified. She became increasingly overwhelmed. With the pushback from the team, adjoined to her own increased fear stemming from her worries and suspicions regarding the situation, Hawk’s mind became frantic.

  She squared up against Seymour. “Seymour, if you don’t see this mission through to completion, I will assure you the C.I.A. will crack down hard on you. That’s not me threatening. I’m just letting you know the reality of it.”

  “I’m starting to think I’ll take my chances,” Rex said, eyeballing one of the shriveled corpses.

  Several moments of silence followed.

  “Hatchling? Hatchling, come in.” Charlie’s voice broke the silence.

  “Go ahead,” Seymour answered.

  “Boss, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you. I’m uploading a feed to your monitor. You’ll want to see this.” Rex approached and turned, allowing Seymour to access the computer from his pack. Seymour turned it on. The monitor came to life.

  The image was grainy for several seconds. It finally cleared, revealing an overhead view of the jungle. The high layer of jungle was a bright green, which sharply contrasted to the dead zone where they stood. As the drone moved, it captured an opening in t
he blanket of green. It was a paved trail. The drone followed the trail, coming to a bend.

  Two Jeeps had parked at the bend, almost concealed by the canopy. Three soldiers, dressed in black tactical gear, had run up ahead, catching up with two others. Two other people, dressed in casual clothing, were lying face down. One had propped himself to his knees, only to be struck by the butt of a soldier’s rifle.

  “Those are two of the scientists,” Hawk said.

  The soldiers looked to one another, appearing to be in the midst of discussion. After a few seconds, they aimed their rifles downward, and opened fire. Even at the drone’s altitude, they could see the bullets tearing into the backs of the two helpless scientists. The soldiers quickly boarded their Jeeps. The tires kicked up gravel as they floored the accelerators.

  “Damn!” Easley said. Hawk put a hand over her forehead, angered and disgusted at what she had just witnessed. The mercenaries showed equal displeasure. Ivan and Rex held their M60s, winking toward Seymour.

  “Well, well,” Terrie said, unstrapping her sniper rifle. Seymour looked to his team. They were clearly ready to continue the mission.

  “Eagle Nest,” he said, “keep track of those Jeeps as best you can. Let us know where they go.”

  “Yes sir,” Charlie answered. Seymour switched off the monitor, and stuffed it back into Rex’s pack.

  Seymour looked at Agent Hawk. She was sweating, and breathing shallowly to maintain control. He looked at the gravesite, gazing over the strange pods, then back at the agent. “You’re not completely sure what happened, are you?”

  “I only have suspicions,” she said. “I can’t say for sure until we get to that command post.” Seymour nodded, then reached for his backup weapon.

  “Can you handle one of these?” he said. He held a submachine gun by the barrel, extending it toward her. She slowly accepted it, not intimidated by the weapon, but confused by the gesture.

  “You’re damn right I can,” she said.

  “Good,” Seymour said. “I’d rather you be able to hold your own, now that you’re stuck on this shithole with us.”

  “You got it,” she said.

  “Alright,” Seymour said to his team. “We’ve got ourselves a bit of a stroll ahead of us,” he said. “Keep a five-meter spread. We’ll eliminate the hostiles, then continue toward the bunker. There, we’ll let Agent Hawk collect what she needs, then we’re out of here.”

  “Yes sir,” they responded in unison.

  “Keep low and move quiet,” he said. He gestured toward Nagamine, who took point. In seconds, he vanished into the untouched jungle. Seymour was next, followed by Hawk and the rest of the unit.

  Ivan and Rex, the last to move, took one final glance. “Fucked up shit…but then again, could’ve happened to better people,” Rex whispered.

  “Well…” Ivan switched the barrel on his M60 to full auto, “at least there’s leftovers.”

  CHAPTER

  14

  Back up alarms sounded in loud beeps, echoing into the jungle, preceding the deep roar of the engine. Two large bulldozers plowed the area, sinking the cutting edge of their blades deep into the ground. The tracks rotated as the bulldozers pushed the dirt into enormous mounts.

  Loud cracks sounded over the groaning engines. Men, with chainsaws in hand, rushed out of the way as the huge tree gave in to the deep slice they cut into its lower trunk. The tree smacked down into the earth, landing near two others which had shared the same fate. Sunlight poured through newly created holes in the canopy, shining down on the construction zone.

  The guard stopped and looked toward the site as the tree touched down. He listened as his superior barked orders to his fellow troops. Remembering to not allow himself to get distracted, he continued his patrol. He clutched his rifle, ready to fire on anything that moved. It wasn’t just training, nor was it instinct. It was a rare display of fear.

  During his years of military training and indoctrination, he had been taught that his life had no value, other than to serve his superiors. There was no purpose other than to fight for his country, and eliminate the evil influence of western culture. He was not to fear injury or death. He was not to fear at all.

  Only now did the soldier fail to live to that example. Looking into the jungle, unable to see anything over ten feet away, that forbidden emotion encompassed him. He slowly patrolled, watching out for any movement, ready to alert the remaining men.

  His path led him to a posted guard, who rested in a machine gunner’s nest atop a hill. The guard looked out to the jungle, and like the patroller, he kept watch. The guard made brief eye contact with the approaching patroller, then tilted his head left, instructing him to keep moving.

  The patroller moved, constantly pointing his rifle whichever direction he looked. The guard stood, stiff as a statue, following the patroller with his eyes. As the patroller crossed over to the other side of his post, the guard kept his eyes planted on the seemingly infinite jungle. He registered every sight and sound; each tremor from the leaves, each sway of the tree branches, drips of rain water, the whistling from the breeze.

  And amongst all these sounds; a faint rustling. It was a precise vibration, however feeble, off to the right. The guard turned to look.

  Nagamine slashed his Ninjato. The blade effortlessly cut the throat just below the jawline, spilling blood down his shirt. The guard’s body collapsed over the side of the gunner’s nest, landing in the soft mud below.

  Hearing a soft splash behind him, the patroller turned. He saw his comrade laying still beside the post where he stood. On the other side of that post, he saw a faint black blur of motion as Nagamine ducked.

  The guard lifted his rifle, and opened his mouth to shout to the other troops. His shouts came out as nothing more than a muffle, as a hand reached from behind him, cupping his mouth.

  Like a blowtorch through butter, the freshly sharpened blade entered his neck.

  Seymour held the Korean tightly, twisting the elite SEAL knife, severing the vocals, blood vessels, and trachea. He gently lowered the dead patroller to the ground. Kneeling, he turned around and waved.

  The rest of the team emerged from hiding and gathered around their leader. With a closed fist, he signaled for them to wait. He took his time, climbing into the gunner’s nest. It gave him a view of the site, while keeping him obstructed from view. He pressed binoculars to his eyes and studied the area.

  Charlie’s drone had tracked the vehicles to a construction site, where Trevor had planned to build a new, high-tech facility. The North Koreans operated two bulldozers, which were actively clearing out a flat, open area. As they pushed, the dirt piled into high mounds, reaching heights of ten feet. Soldiers scattered about the work zone, each carrying an assault rifle. Many of them worked on the mounds with shovels, embedding other debris into the huge piles.

  Others worked around the fallen trees, using a third bulldozer to away the fallen trees. Kicking up dirt with its tracks, the bulldozer slowly rolled the tree along, after soldiers had trimmed the branches. Seymour estimated they had cleared out nearly two hundred yards of open space so far. Several meters off to the right, a backhoe sat in the muck, twenty feet from the tree line. Nobody sat in its platform.

  Looking to the center of the site, Seymour identified three temper tents. He aimed the glasses inside, hoping to possibly identify a hostage. However, he could not see. The tents were spread out several meters apart, two of them near the upper side of the site, the third isolated further down. Near that one was a much smaller tent, covering a large long-range radio unit. The two Jeeps seen in the monitor were parked near the two tents on the upper side, unoccupied.

  Seymour glanced at the opening they had created in the tree line, then at the clearing of jungle within the site.

  Son of a bitch. They’re trying to radio for rescue. They’re making space for a chopper to touch down.

  A solder stood at the radio unit, actively attempting to make a call. Seymour could hear the faint static,
indicative that the signal was not making it through the trees.

  After making a rough count of the soldiers hurrying about, he scanned the glasses to the other side. On two corners on the opposite side of the site were guard posts, one to the northeast, one southeast near the unmanned backhoe. After studying further, he determined those were the only two.

  He lowered himself down behind the gunner’s nest, and looked to his team. They huddled around him, awaiting instructions.

  “They have two guard posts on the other side,” he said. “We’ll have to take those out first. Nagamine, you take the one on the northeast corner, I’ll take the southeast one.

  “Ivan, Rex, work your way toward the mounds. Keep out of sight. When Nagamine and I are done, I’m gonna light up the loggers and draw their fire. Nobody fire until their attention is on me. Once they are, you two light them up with the M60s. Terrie, pick off the radio man and the bulldozers. Craig, Easley, Hawk, use those as cover and move in. Don’t fire on the tents unless necessary. Our objective may still be inside. Move.”

  The team spread. Seymour and Nagamine moved right, moving around the north side of the perimeter to the guard post. Ivan and Rex went left to take their position to the southwest mounds.

  Hidden by the leaves and shadows, Terrie perched along the side of the gunner’s nest. She planted the stilts over a thick branch, and adjusted her sights. The position gave her excellent view, while keeping her hidden. Hawk waited behind the nest with Sutton and Easley, waiting for the signal to attack.

  Terrie glanced back at the anxious agent, worried that she was about to lose her cool. To Terrie’s surprise, Hawk appeared relaxed and ready. Perhaps she had spent more time on the frontlines than the team suspected. They could only hope.

  CHAPTER

  15

  Nagamine pressed his stomach to the ground as the unsuspecting guard turned his gaze. Like a snake in a flowerbed, the merc lay still. Several seconds passed, and the guard finally looked away, scanning another direction. Nagamine pushed up on his toes and fingertips, keeping low as he approached.