by Greig Beck
After hiking steadily for sixty minutes, Alex called a ten-minute rest break. He ordered Johnson to scout ahead for five minutes and then report back in. Johnson acknowledged the order with a brief “affirmative,” switched to night scope vision, and disappeared into the still darkness.
From behind Alex, Adrian Silex said in his whining, nasal tone, “I don’t get it, one moment it seems we have air pockets under us, the next we have water. I can’t understand how Dr. Hendsen ever received a positive reading unless it was somewhere much deeper than here. If we don’t find a testing base site that is on geologically stable ground I won’t be able to receive a clear reading and we will have wasted our time. Captain, can you please organise for us to continue onward a bit more quickly?”
Borshov spent time going over Benson’s equipment and caving suit. He needed to know what the American HAWCs had brought with them and what he would be dealing with. He held up Benson’s M98 and sighted along the barrel. He secreted it among some rocks—a little insurance was a good thing, he thought. The other two Russian assassins wasted little time in destroying communications equipment and anything else that could aid the American team. They looked like three large alien insects in their black head-to-toe infiltration suits. Down in the darkened cave, even their faces were covered with the single lens of the Generation-III cyclops night vision scope extending outwards from their brows. They moved quickly but surely to catch up with the American team.
Borshov looked forward to meeting his old friend again, and seeing if this time his thick American head could hold one of the exploding bullets he was saving.
Alex’s comm unit pinged as Johnson out at point reported in. “All clear so far, however the slope is deepening to an incline of about thirty degrees. No sign of the Hendsen party other than the footprints—they just keep heading on into the cave depths.”
Alex couldn’t help thinking aloud. “Where the hell were they all going? OK, roger that; hold your position, we’re coming down. Be with you in about seven minutes.”
Ten
Johnson found an alcove in the cave wall and folded himself in. His training dictated that on field operations you leave as little of your body exposed and undefended as possible.
From the cave depths there was a soft watery sound. Johnson’s head whipped around and he strained to hear more. Even with his senses tuned and his electronic equipment at their maximum settings no movement or heat shapes could be detected. He quickly scanned his perimeter and when he turned back to the cave ahead he could now just make out a vaguely human shape about a hundred feet farther in. He remained silent and immobile, even his breathing slowed. The shape moved closer to Johnson’s position in a gliding, oily motion.
When the shape was only about twenty feet away Johnson could make out it was a man, but he looked oily or wet; almost like he was covered in mucous or something slick. As the figure came still closer, he could also now see he was dressed in the clothes of the previous rescue party. Johnson adjusted the magnification on his night scope and could make out the name tag: Hendsen.
“Dr. Hendsen, sir, are you all right?”
Hendsen didn’t acknowledge him. However, he did seem to move a little closer. Might be in shock or disorientated, he thought. Johnson stood up slowly and walked carefully sideways towards the figure of Hendsen; as he did so he pinged his comm unit and reported in.
“Boss, I got a survivor here—looks to be Dr. Tom Hendsen but he looks kind of strange.”
Alex’s senses went into overdrive, he turned away and so as not to alert the rest of the scientific team said as quietly, and forcefully as he could manage, “Johnson, you will hold your position. Do not interact with or approach survivor. Is that clear?”
As Johnson was about to confirm his last order, he took a single step back towards cover. His movement triggered an explosion of activity in the Tom Hendsen shape. It leaped forward as if on a spring and smashed into Johnson front-on with a wet smacking sound that echoed back down into the cavern. Johnson felt the juddering impact but was less dazed than he expected to be. Hendsen was an average-sized man and he thought he should have at least been knocked off his feet by the collision. However the mass that struck him was softer than it had a right to be and he found himself held upright and actually glued in place. He reached up with his free hand to push himself away but this too sank into the mass and became stuck.
The acrid chemical smell was making his eyes water and he noticed a thick, fleshy cord extending from the thing’s back and away into the cave depths. His comm unit pinged urgently for attention, but he had no chance of responding as even his face was now adhered to the Tom Hendsen shape. The final agony came as several dagger-like tusks extended from the shape and pierced his body. His last coherent thought was of the running footprints, the dragging, the missing bodies; suddenly it all came together.
Johnson managed a single muffled scream as he was roughly yanked off his feet and dragged struggling into the depths of the cave.
Alex’s heightened senses were screaming at him. He was learning to use his extraordinary capabilities to pick up a person’s presence when they were in his proximity; and a few seconds ago he could “feel” Johnson out at point. But now . . . gone.
“Johnson, report in.” Nothing. “Report in, Lieutenant!” Just static. Nothing.
“Mike, Tank, with me. Takeda, keep the group together and move them slowly up behind us. I don’t want any stragglers.” The HAWCs sprinted off into the darkness.
In a few minutes, Alex had found the last position of Lieutenant John Johnson. A few seconds later Mike and then Tank caught up and joined him. Though Alex slowed the last dozen paces to approach with caution, no one on the team could hope to keep pace with him when he opened it up. “Tank, eyes forward and cover.” Tank nodded and trotted silently further into the cave depths. He had switched to stealth mode so to anyone other than another HAWC he was virtually invisible.
Alex and Mike crouched down and switched on their helmet lamps. The ground showed a single pair of HAWC footprints moving to an area of major ground disturbance. However, this was fairly vague as there was still roughly another dozen sets of footsteps and drag marks from the Hendsen party continuing on into the darkness.
“Contact was made here, a struggle, then nothing.” Alex stood up.
Mike looked around and said to Alex, “No blood, no debris; do you think the Hendsen team took him?”
Alex looked at Mike. “Taken a solider like Johnson, in just seconds, with all his skill and firepower? No way; he’d have taken them apart.”
Alex looked back down into the darkness. “Do you smell that?” There was the lingering smell of ammonia in the air. Alex went on. “No. He was ambushed and taken by someone or something unexpected and overwhelming.” Alex spoke to Mike and Tank who had again joined them, and he also voiced-in Takeda via his comm unit. “Soldiers, we are not alone. Prepare to go hot.”
The two teams joined up and Takeda mentioned that the SINCGARS relay module must have been resetting as the line to the surface had dropped out. Alex immediately tried Benson but received no response. A knot formed in his stomach. With tons of rock, and magnetic interference between them and topside he knew losing transmission was to be expected. Still . . .
Alex stood for a moment, looking up at the dark rock above them, as if trying to see through the layers of limestone and miles of cave. He was tempted to drag them all out, but he had no information to cause him to think Benson was in trouble. He had to assume he was OK and therefore his priority was to find Johnson. Alex didn’t think he had disappeared due to an accidental fall; if he found proof it was a hostile intervention, he’d decide then whether to withdraw or engage. Alex felt a flame light inside him; his senses amplified and the hand on the stock of his gun squeezed until a small popping could be heard from the toughened polymer compound. Not now, he thought to himself; he closed his eyes and smelled green apples until the flame subsided.
He opened his eyes. He
’d put it to the scientists, let them think about it and decide if they wanted to proceed or return to base camp. It was still their mission. Alex would try to persuade them to head back so he could run a search for Johnson unencumbered by civilians.
“Listen up, people, here is our situation. We are offline with HQ, probably due to nothing more than magnetic disturbance. We were expecting this as the polar ionosphere tends to fragment our signals, resulting in temporary drop-outs in our global comms. There is nothing to worry about, however, what does concern me is that one of my men may have engaged with an unknown adversary farther down in the caves not twenty minutes ago—that man is now missing. There are tracks everywhere indicating that the Hendsen party was in motion, or was herded further into the cave system. It is my firm belief that there is significant danger of a hostile encounter if we proceed.” Alex looked at the group and gauged their reactions. Mostly confusion, but no panic—good.
“Could he have been found by the previous party?” Alex could see the hope in Aimee’s eyes as she asked the question. She desperately wanted to find evidence that could lead them to Tom Hendsen. He wouldn’t tell her about Johnson reporting that he had seen her colleague; he thought she might grab a torch and charge off into the dark.
“That’s a possibility, but we don’t believe the previous party is involved in his disappearance.” Aimee was about to ask another question but he cut her off—he wasn’t ready to share his thoughts on who or what Tom Hendsen had encountered just yet.
“We could proceed, but I believe the best option is for you to return to the base camp temporarily with Takeda. This will allow my men and myself to do a rapid search. If there is no danger and we find our man, we can meet you and return, time permitting.” Alex knew a return was unlikely; it would take them several hours just to retrace their steps. Waiting for Alex and then coming back down would not give them enough time to meet the returning helicopter—it certainly wouldn’t wait long in below-zero temperatures.
“I’m for returning to base camp.” Corporal Margaret Anderson hadn’t looked comfortable since they headed into the darkness of the caves, so Alex wasn’t surprised that she would vote to leave. He suspected Zegarelli would follow his partner’s lead. He was military and would be able to read Alex’s signals about the dangers in going forward.
“Dr. Silex, we should probably move immed—” Alex was cut off mid-sentence by the lead scientist who had stepped forward from the group.
“Captain, you said that your man had disappeared. Could he not have simply run off into the dark and fallen into a chasm? This area is honeycombed, you know.”
“We don’t believe that is the case, Dr. Silex.”
“What do you believe, Captain? I didn’t hear any yelling or gunshots. Did you see this unknown adversary? What even made you think there was an adversary? More than likely your man got disoriented in the dark and is lost with a broken radio. More plausible than your Special Forces soldier getting jumped by someone hiding in the caves. I know you’re champing at the bit to assume command, Captain, but this is still a science-led mission and I say we proceed.”
Alex couldn’t tell them what he sensed without it sounding like baseless fears, but he would try one last time to turn them. “Aimee, Matt, Monica, everyone gets a vote here. Aimee, can you take your readings at this level?”
“Sorry, Alex, it’s like standing on the top of a tall building; too many floors to see through before we actually get to solid bedrock. Dr. Silex is right; too much honeycombing. Besides, I feel we’re close. If there is a chance the previous party is alive then we need to find them.” Alex nodded and looked to Matt.
“I vote to proceed. There is evidence of an ancient civilisation like nothing I have ever seen. You know, the previous party may have found something and went deeper to investigate.” Alex could tell Matt probably didn’t think that this was the case, but the hordes of hell weren’t going to stop him from investigating his ruins.
Monica just shrugged. “Stable environment, low-angle slope; no problems. I’ll go with the flow.”
Ah, civilians, thought Alex. “OK, we proceed, but at a more cautious rate. However, if we encounter any form of aggressive interference, this ceases to be a science mission and we evac to the surface immediately.” Alex didn’t wait to get agreement and as he was about to turn away he caught the narrowed eyes of the lead scientist. He held them for a moment before Silex shook his head and looked away. In that glare Alex could tell the man was silently fuming. Maybe he didn’t like the idea of the potential change of mission command or having to return to the surface. It didn’t matter; Alex’s priority was to keep the team safe, not make friends.
Alex called his men in. They had been silent hulks in the dark, facing away from Alex and the group, sensor units set to maximum as they scanned the depths of the cave. “We go forward. Tank, at point with me. Mike, Takeda, rearguard, eyes front and back, stay on red.” The HAWCs nodded once.
“Let’s go, people.” The group shouldered their backpacks and marched forward into the yawning, black cave.
Eleven
Alex and Tank moved through the stygian darkness like phantoms. Tank was about ten feet up and to the left, his huge bulk barely making a sound. Both had their Patriot scopes engaged but Alex was now finding that his own eyes were delivering depth, peripheral and light enhancement that exceeded the military technology. He disengaged the night scope; for light amplification their background illumination was second to none, but the trade-off was in full-field perception. Alex preferred his own eyes.
His mind wandered, either his physical changes were accelerating or they were just flexing like new muscles being tried out for the first time. Only a few minutes earlier a small fury had started to burn within him; he had managed to contain it this time, but he worried about being in a more pressured situation—what then?
Tank suddenly dropped from view. Shit! Alex’s mind snapped back into focus. He covered the distance between them in less than a second—an abyss; the cave floor had abruptly ended.
Tank was just over the lip of a drop off into a black chasm, dangling with his back to the wall. The toughened fingertips of his caving glove were buried in the top of a small shelf, the other holding his knife as he tried to reach up and dig it in behind his head for higher purchase. In one smooth motion Alex leaned out over the rim of the cliff and took the knife from Tank’s hand. Swinging it around in an arc, he embedded it six inches into the cave floor with the sound of a sledgehammer striking a rail spike. His hand now secured by the deeply wedged knife, Alex grabbed the front of Tank’s reinforced caving suit and lifted. Tank, fully kitted out, must have weighed over 250 pounds; Alex lifted him up and over the lip like he was little more than a laundry bag full of linen. He sat the big man down next to him.
“Watch that first step, big fella.”
Tank looked at Alex, then at his knife sunk into the stone of the cave floor. “Been working out, boss?”
“Nah, we were lucky—just got an adrenaline rush when I saw you go over. You OK?”
“Fine now, but praise the Lord, Ms. Jennings was right about these suits—you don’t need to take them off to use the bathroom.”
They stood on the edge of an abyss that dropped away into impenetrable darkness. Raising her chin and breathing deeply, Aimee could feel a slight breeze blowing up from the depths, carrying with it a hint of rich mosses and humidity. She stood a little back from the edge; there were two things that made her feel uneasy—swimming in the ocean at night and darkened heights. Even though it was much warmer now, she shivered as she remembered the time five years ago when she attempted to leave a downtown building late one evening. While waiting for an elevator to take her back to the lobby from the fourteenth floor, the double doors had slid open to reveal a shaft without the car. An empty black doorway which led into nothingness. Aimee, daydreaming, had stepped forward and had only been stopped from plunging hundreds of feet to her death by a watchful security guard. She had
been nauseous for days afterwards.
Twenty feet across the gap the cave continued. Aimee watched Monica crack a glow stick, shake it to get maximum illumination and then drop it over the edge. They all held their breath and waited—and waited. After a while, when the stick had obviously passed out of range of their vision, and no sounds of it hitting bottom could be heard, Monica turned to the group.
“OK, climbing down is not a good idea,” she said.
The HAWCs increased the illumination on their torches and the strong lights showed what looked to be piles of clothing or packs on the cave floor over the gap.
“That’s them; they’re over there.” Aimee had stepped forward, her excitement at the chance of finding Tom alive overtaking her fear of the chasm edge. Alex put his hand out to gently hold her upper arm and looked over her head to Monica.
“We need to get over there, Ms. Jennings.”
Monica was already looking up at the ceiling to formulate a route. “No problem. I’ll cam-crawl across the roof and secure a line to the far wall. We can rig up a rope jerry-bridge and relay everyone over. Give me about ten minutes.” With that she stripped off her pack and removed a belt containing an impressive array of equipment. “About time I got to try out this new gear.”