“Right. Thanks, Ed,” Ben replied, reaching into one of his bandoliers for a compact med-kit. He opened the kit, and Luna watched him remove an emergency syringe.
“I’m going to sedate you, if that’s okay?” Ben asked, sterilizing the would-be injection sight with a disinfectant swab.
Luna hesitated for a moment, still not sure if she could trust the stranger. How had the AI unit known that she’d fallen? Had they been shadowing her the whole time?
She eyed the syringe. It looked authentic enough … but unless she miraculously developed x-ray vision and the ability to identify chemicals with her mind, she had no way of knowing for sure. Still, if Ben had wanted to kill her he could have easily done so a long time ago. After all, why go through all the trouble of earning her trust just to kill her via lethal injection?
She sighed and nodded, “Go ahead …”
“Okay. It’ll be all right..” She felt the hot prick of the needle sliding under her skin. “Just try to relax. You’ll be safe when you wake up—I promise.”
“Uh-huh …” Luna muttered weakly.
“Just try to relax,” Ben’s voice sounded alien and strangely distant. “If you feel tired, then sleep. Don’t try to fight it.”
Luna smiled slightly and allowed her eyes to drift shut.
She felt him remove her IV and was vaguely aware of her helmet being secured over her head. Then everything went dark.
Chapter 12
Several hours of trudging through thick swamp muck hadn’t improved Keith’s overall condition. Now everything hurt.
To make matters worse, the storm Terence had been tracking nearly four hours ago had blown in, forcing the battered three-man team to take cover beneath the scraggly canopies of a long dead pine forest.
In the hours since they had left the wreckage of their Stratocruiser, the agents had only covered a mile and a half: less then a tenth of the distance between their starting point and what Keith guessed would be Luna’s location. Without the help of an AI unit or a portable scanner to track her with, he had no way to know for sure. All he could do was cross his fingers and hope for the best. That, and squat in the mud with his men, silently cursing the storm that had kept them bogged down for the past hour.
“This is ridiculous,” Agent Rush muttered, wiping the muck off his gun. “If we sit around here much longer we’ll become part of this blasted swamp!”
Keith couldn’t help but agree with Rush’s assessment of their situation. He pushed himself up and turned to his men, “All right, agents, Rush is right. Let’s go.”
The two other men glanced at each other then struggled to their feet.
“With respect, sir,” agent Patterson said, “do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.”
Keith nodded, “Yes I know it’s bad, and no, I don’t think it’s a good idea. But until Perkins gets through to HQ, it’s the only option we have left. Look around you. This storm isn’t going to blow over anytime soon, and we’re just wasting time sitting here in the mud.”
He checked his weapon, and then switched on his LED light. “As for not being able to see—try switching your heads-up display to night vision or infrared. That usually helps.”
Patterson chuckled, but Keith could still hear the weariness in his voice.
“Yes, sir. Switching to infrared now.”
“Okay, stay close,” Keith said, scanning the misty swamp ahead of him. “This storm has probably oversaturated the ground, which means we’ll have to be on the lookout for mud pits and deep water.”
“You mean more than we were already?” Agent Rush commented dryly, falling in behind Keith who was already beginning to slog out of the thick quagmire surrounding their shelter.
“Hey, hold up guys,” Patterson said, sweeping the area directly to his left, “I thought I saw something moving out there.”
Keith stopped in mid stride and looked back over his shoulder, “You sure? I didn’t pick up anything on the motion tracker …”
“I swear I saw something! Wait! There it is again!”
A single red dot flashed on Keith’s HUD then quickly faded. He couldn’t deny it this time. Something was shadowing them.
“Patterson, Rush,” he said urgently, lowering himself into a painful crouch, “you guys saw that too, right?”
The two men nodded slightly, raising their weapons.
“Yes, sir,” Rush said, “but the target is no longer registering. I have negative feeds on both infrared and night vision as well. Whoever—or whatever—is out there is doing a good job of hiding …”
“My status is the same, sir,” Patterson said, slowly. “I’ve got nothing.”
“Something’s not right.” Patterson muttered, and Keith agreed, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
It had been almost seven hours since the initial attack—five hours since Luna fell—and the possibility that they could encounter more of the Swamper terrorists had crossed his mind more than once. He’d seen and heard enough about Swampers to know that they knew the deep swamp better than anyone—they could become almost invisible if they wanted to. Keith combed the area, his keen eyes searching the fog for the slightest movement.
There’s no way a Swamper team can disappear out here … there’s nothing to mask their heat signatures, he thought, starting to feel a bit uneasy.
“I’m moving up. Cover me,” Keith said. He would find whatever was out there, assess the situation, and deal with it accordingly.
“Yes, sir. Covering,” Patterson replied.
Keith began inching forward into the murk. It was too dark and rainy for him to see much of anything, so he relied on his HUD’s overlapping infrared and night vision settings instead of his naked eye. Everything seemed normal. No heat signatures. No detectable movement except his own. The swamp seemed abnormally peaceful—despite the storm.
“Everything looks clear,” he said at last, breaking comm silence. “It was probably just a bird or something—”
Just then his motion detector flashed again. This time the target was much closer. He thumbed off his weapon’s safety and turned around. The bright LED light fixed to his gun cut through the fog and reflected off a pair of unblinking red eyes staring back at him from no more then twelve feet away.
He shouted, firing a series of three round bursts as the massive bull alligator lunged from its watery lair, clearing the distance between hunter and prey in a single bound. Keith saw his bullets striking the gator’s armored body—saw half of them penetrate—but knew that the 9mm slugs wouldn’t even slow down the massive reptile.
The alligator’s huge jaws parted, and Keith backpedaled wildly, trying to get as far away from the gaping maw as possible. He knew that an adult alligator the size of the one trying to devour him could easily reach sprinting speeds of up to thirty miles an hour overland: much faster than an agent in full environmental armor could ever hope to run.
Before he’d taken more then two steps, Keith’s feet caught in the thick mire, and he toppled backwards. An instant latter the huge, twenty-foot-long alligator was on him, snapping him up in its toothy jaws.
Keith screamed and twisted, feeling himself being dragged toward the water. The giant reptile had grabbed him around his torso, leaving his arms and feet free to kick and punch—which he did in an attempt to free himself from the unbearable pressure slowly crushing his chest. That was the one thing his suit couldn’t stop: slow, steady pressure.
“Keith! What’s happening?” agent Rush shouted.
Keith gasped and groped for his weapon, “Alligator! A big one! I need assistance!”
He raised his gun and fired it point blank into the alligator’s snout. The huge animal hissed in pain, releasing him for a fraction of a second before clamping down again.
The gun toppled from his grasp, and Keith cried out as he felt bones give way under the alligator’s powerful bite. He grabbed the alligator’s jaws, trying desperately to pry them apa
rt so he could breathe.
His helmet’s bio-monitor blared a sonic warning: he was being crushed. Water washed over his faceplate and he felt the cold grip of panic tearing at him. He was unarmed and unable to breathe. His men were too far away to help him, and now he was being pulled under water.
He’d seen enough natural history vids to know what was coming next. First the alligator would try to drown him—which would fail as long as his suit remained intact. Then it would try to rip his body apart in a violent death roll—during which time Keith would most likely still be very much alive.
Is this really how it’s going to end?
Through his comm. Keith could hear his team shouting in confusion,, and he silently wondered if they would ever find his body, or if he would join the endless ranks of the MIA.
The black water washed over him, and he fixed his eyes on what he was sure would be his last look at the stormy sky. His strength was gone—his body pinned between the gator’s jaws. There was little he could do now but hope that it would all be over quickly.
Suddenly the alligator lurched and started clawing at its head.
“Continue firing!” Rush’s voice blared in Keith’s ear. It was his team!
He had to fight. He could feel his body surging with renewed energy.
The alligator writhed under the steady rain of bullets then turned and began swimming out into deeper waters—outside the range of the agents’ guns. He had to do something fast.
His weapons were gone, but he still had his fists. Without hesitation, Keith clawed his hand and thrust it into the alligator’s eye socket. The massive reptile shook its head violently.
Keith coughed up a mouthful of foamy blood, gritted his teeth, and pulled with all his might, ripping out the alligator’s eye.
Instantly, the vice-like jaws parted. Seizing his chance to escape, Keith pushed himself out of the creature’s mouth and made for the bank. His whole body felt like it was on fire, and he could hardly breathe, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before the giant predator recovered and came at him again.
Keith swallowed hard, forcing down the pain, and began paddling frantically toward his team. His armor was heavy and threatened to drag him down. But he pushed himself to his limits, urging his wounded body forward. His eyesight began to blur, and he found himself gasping for breath with every agonized stroke. He was starting to hyperventilate.
“Keith! Hang on! I’m coming!” Rush’s voice drifted through the fog seeping into his panicked brain, and he looked up just in time to see his teammate jump into the water ten feet away from him.
“I’ve got him!” Rush called back to Patterson, just as Keith felt the muddy bottom squishing under his hands and knees. He’d made it.
“Well then, get him out of there!” Patterson replied urgently, “That gator’s coming back around!”
Come on, you’re not out of the woods yet. Keep moving, Keith thought, dragging himself toward Rush.
“Cover me!” Rush shouted, slinging his weapon over one arm while reaching for Keith with the other.
Keith grabbed Rush’s arm and pulled himself up weakly, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see the one-eyed alligator lunging at them, mouth open wide.
In that brief moment time slowed to a crawl. Keith could hear the startled cries of his men and the sounds of automatic weapon fire. A moment later the white flesh lining the alligator’s mouth exploded as round after round slammed home, pulverizing the creature’s skull and the small brain within. The giant animal took three more steps then toppled onto its side, burying its long snout in the thick mud as Agent Patterson continued unloading his weapon into its writhing corpse.
“I! Hate! Alligators!” He shouted, slamming another clip into his smoking weapon.
“Remind me … never to get on your bad side … Patterson.” Keith rasped.
“Easy, Keith. Don’t try to talk,” Rush said, pulling him up out of the mud.
“Understood,” Keith replied, gagging on blood.
“We need to get you out of here. … Patterson, call Perkins—tell him we need immediate evac!”
“… Miss McKelly … ” Keith coughed.
“I’m sorry, Keith. You just moved to the top of the priority list.”
Keith laid his head back, overcome with guilt. He’d failed to complete his mission. Luna McKelly was missing: either dead or in the clutches of terrorists who would think she was an agent. He shuddered. Whether from the thought of an innocent civilian being tortured for information she couldn’t possible know or from his massive internal injuries, he couldn’t be sure.
“Rush … Patterson. If you get through to the Chief … tell him … tell him to look for Miss McKelly. … We can’t abandon her out here.”
“We will, sir.” Rush replied, reaching for his suit’s med-kit. “I’m sure he’ll do everything in his power to find her and bring her home. Don’t worry.”
Keith nodded slightly and closed his eyes. The last thing he heard was Rush’s frantic attempts to rouse him, but it was too late. He’d already surrendered to exhaustion and the shock of his injuries.
Chapter 13
“We’ve established contact, sir!” Rosa called out, causing Chief Landers to stop and turn. He had been anxiously pacing the communications room for nearly the entire five hours since Alex had picked up a scrambled distress call from the Stratocruiser. All further attempts at contacting the team had failed, because of the massive storm that had blown into the area shortly after the distress beacon had been activated.
“Give me an exact location on their signal and patch it through,” he replied briskly, turning to face the network of holographic monitors built into the comm room’s walls. He watched the glowing screens intently as they projected a topographical grid map of the Oklahoma Swamp. A tiny flashing dot appeared near the upper left-hand corner of the main monitor, and the screen automatically enlarged, giving Landers coordinates as well as a clear, three-dimensional view of the terrain surrounding the downed Stratocruiser.
“Come in, HQ. This is Agent Mitch Perkins. Do you copy? Over.”
“We hear you loud and clear, Perkins.” Landers replied, releasing a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “What’s your status? Over.”
“Not good, Chief. We encountered enemy surface-to-air fire and were forced to ditch fifteen miles north-northwest of our initial LZ. We’ve taken heavy casualties. Most of us are banged up pretty bad, and I just received an emergency call from Agent Rush five minutes ago requesting an immediate medevac for Agent Tagawa.”
“What happened? Was it more Swampers?”
“Negative, HQ. … It was an alligator.”
“An alligator? How the hell did that happen?”
There was a moment of silence then Perkins spoke again, slowly this time. “We … lost Miss McKelly, sir. She couldn’t fasten her seatbelt and was sucked out of the aircraft when we were hit. … But we were flying low, and we were over water at the time. So we think she may have survived the fall. Agent Tagawa was adamant about going back for her, sir. He, Patterson, and Rush headed out a few hours ago and apparently found an alligator instead. The last thing he said before he lost consciousness was for me to contact you and request that you locate and extract Miss McKelly if at all possible, sir.”
“That idiot. ” Landers muttered under his breath, then he said, “All right, Perkins. You men just sit tight. I’ve got three choppers on the tarmac ready and waiting. We’ll be in the air ASAP.”
“Affirmative, Chief. Perkins out.”
The Chief sighed and turned back to his aide, “Rosa, upload the coordinates of Tagawa’s Stratocruiser to the other choppers and tell them to take off. Once you’re done with that, start scanning for the homing chips. Let’s see if we can locate Miss McKelly’s body.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.”
Landers sank into a high-backed chair and massaged his temples, mentally composing his condolence letter to Luna’s next of kin. He knew that even i
f by some miracle Miss McKelly had survived the fall, the chances of her surviving the night in a swamp crawling with hostile insurgents and predators were almost nonexistent.
“Sir …” Rosa said slowly, “I found her.”
What a waste, Landers thought solemnly, staring at the floor in front of him. He sighed and looked up. “Upload her location to the choppers, and have a team retrieve the body.”
“Um, sir … the tracer chip is broadcasting strong, stable vital signs. … She’s alive. Alive and … and moving, sir.”
“What?” He said, rising from his chair. “How is that even possible?” Landers muttered, watching the flashing light that marked Luna’s location. “If she’s alive, she’d be too badly hurt to even walk. How is she moving?”
“I don’t know, sir,” Rosa replied, raising an eyebrow, “but she’s traveling at nearly thirty miles an hour. … ”
Landers’ brow creased with deep furrows. “Are the choppers in the air?” He asked.
“All but the last one, sir.”
“Contact that pilot, tell him to hold his position. I’m going out there myself.”
Landers didn’t wait for her to complete the call. He had to get ready immediately. There was something horribly out of place about the events unfolding in the swamp. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.
Fifteen minutes later he was aboard the Stratocruiser, watching the swamplands racing beneath him as the V-244 soared out into the stormy night sky beyond New Denver’s energy shields. Somewhere in the swamp, Miss McKelly and his agents were awaiting his aid, hoping for rescue.
Chapter 14
Luna sighed deeply and opened her eyes. She was wrapped in a warm blanket and lying on a cot inside a dimly lit room. An IV bag hung at her bedside. Her armor had been removed and the constricting jumpsuit had been unzipped to her waist, allowing her badly bruised chest to rise and fall freely. She was embarrassed when she realized that a total stranger—and a man at that—had gotten such a good look at her. But it was a relief to be free of the cumbersome suit and be able to breathe again.
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