by Allan Burd
That comment drew a slight chuckle from the men, exactly the response Gaines was looking for. He continued. “Today, you will each have the privilege to be part of a larger team that will experience what and who these aliens are. What we learn today will benefit the future of all Canadians. We must make the most of this opportunity.”
The remainder of the briefing was short, with only a few questions. David was satisfied that the men understood the full significance of what they were about to face. He wanted them prepared, yet at ease, and that seemed to be the case.
Moments later the plane landed on a remote plateau high in the mountains, approximately ten miles from the crash site. Major Gaines, Rebecca, Professor Pierre Le Buc, and the crew of soldiers disembarked, off-loading with them boxes of equipment and weapons. On the far side of the plateau were two helicopters. The plane they came in on sped down a makeshift runway and flew off. Within a few minutes they would board the helicopters, fly into the mountains, and begin their final pursuit.
25
Chief Petty Officer Namato ran to Captain Tanaku’s side, bowed slightly, and handed him new orders. After confirming their authenticity, Namato bowed again before leaving Tanaku alone in his quarters.
He read them slowly. Then reread every word just to make sure he fully understood. It was one thing to just be informed his ship was going into conflict. But to be told they would be going to battle over a crashed extraterrestrial space craft … that, to say the least, was unsettling. He sat on his bed and absorbed these new orders into his psyche.
His mission was to recover a downed extraterrestrial spaceship. He was to retrieve what he could and destroy what he could not—even if the Americans and the Canadians got in his way. He set aside the extraordinary aspects. As phenomenal as they were, it was still secondary to invading Canada. He grew uneasy, though his face still displayed a facade of calm. He knew this mission could not be accomplished without conflict and loss of lives on both sides. Though returning home successful with such a valuable prize would gain him that much more respect and honor, it wasn’t worth the price that would be paid in human lives.
He left his quarters and walked out onto the upper deck of his aircraft carrier, further pondering his mission while admiring the view. He wondered what the politicians thought. Did they even care about the consequences of their actions? Were they tiring again of not having enough land and depending upon others for resources? Hadn’t they learned from the previous wars? No, he decided. The orders had probably been issued for both economic and political reasons. A new technology in their control would bring vast profits and power to Japan. They had that to gain and nothing to lose. If their mission failed and the lives of gaijin were lost, an apology would be issued and that would be that. There would be no bad press because it was in every country’s best interest to keep this quiet. The only losses, if any, would be sustained by him and his men. Nevertheless, despite his personal objections, he would begin to prepare his crew once daylight broke. At nightfall they would strike.
CONTACT
26
All in all, Gaines thought, they were a pretty intimidating sight. Twenty armed men each equipped with semiautomatic weapons, each uniformed neck to toe in a bulky blue environmental containment suit that made them look even scarier. Their square shaped heads still remained as yet uncovered, reminding Gaines of his college football team before they donned their helmets to take the field. He scanned their strong faces, noting each one displayed a veneer of raw strength and professional toughness. Their eyes were steeled with pure determination. If they had any fear of the unknown, it was well displaced by discipline and courage. He was proud to lead them.
The first eleven men charged forward, boarding the nearer of the two waiting helicopters. He shouted some last minute instructions to team leaders three and four as the pilot lifted the chopper into the air, on its way to the two drop zones that were NNE and NNW of the spacecraft. The remaining nine soldiers followed suit, their booted feet shifting from soft ground to pounding steel as they climbed aboard the second helicopter like a finely oiled machine. Professor Le Buc and Major David Gaines took up the rear.
“Are you ready, Professor?” asked Major Gaines.
“I wish you would stop calling me that. Makes me feel antiquated,” responded Le Buc.
“Where’s your firearm?” asked Gaines as he eyed Le Buc up and down.
“Oh, come now. Surely you’ve realized I would never carry one,” said Le Buc lightheartedly.
“Yeah, so I’ve noticed. This time I want you armed. It could get dangerous.”
“Nonsense. You know my opinion on this too,” replied Le Buc dismissively.
“Look, we both believe the same thing, but if we’re wrong, I’d prefer to err on the side of caution,” argued Gaines.
“If we do find intelligent alien life in these woods, I can guarantee you they’ll most certainly be more civilized than we.”
“Then carry one to protect yourself from the unintelligent earthly wildlife that we know does exist in these woods. Those bears can be very unpredictable.” It was a fairly good attempt by Gaines to outmaneuver his stubborn friend.
“You’ll have to do better than that.”
“How about doing it to make me happy? We have a timetable to keep and I’m not going to let you on that chopper without a side-arm.”
“For you …” Le Buc sighed. He knew Gaines was right. “Very well, but we’ll discuss this later.”
“Fine. Now get on.” Gaines handed him a firearm and showed him the safety and the switch between single round and automatic. Then, placing one hand on Le Buc’s shoulder, the other on his back, he helped his old friend aboard.
The pilot started the engine and the whirl of the rotor began kicking up the dirt and snow surrounding them. Gaines jogged quickly towards Rebecca.
“The advance team reported radio transmission trouble in the region—probably due to the residual radiation in the area. Our radios will only be able to punch through to allow communication over a short distance. I’ll contact you when we’re in go position. If you don’t hear from me on time, you know what to do.”
“I know the drill,” responded Rebecca confidently.
“You’re our life line.”
“You can count on me.”
“I know,” said Gaines with a quick smile. He ran back beneath the rotors, took a deep whiff of diesel—a ritual that psychologically prepared him for combat—and boarded the helicopter. He looked back towards her as she signaled the pilot to go. One day, he thought, I’m going to have to do something about her. Years ago, when Gaines asked her why she chose the hectic life of the military over settling down, she confided in him she was infertile, and since she could never have the family she wanted, she chose to make the most of her career. At first, this fact made Gaines shy away. He always thought one day he would want children, so why become romantically involved if he knew it couldn’t last, especially with a co-worker. But the more he got to know her, the more it didn’t matter.
Professor Le Buc knew the look and smiled. He knew Gaines took his job very seriously and a woman like Rebecca would be just the thing to bring balance to his life.
The helicopter lifted with a shudder, on its way to the first of its two drop points. Gaines would lead Team One from the SSE. Rodgers, the tall bulky man seated across from him, would lead Team Two from the SSW. Gaines gazed over the rest of the men. Most everyone stared straight ahead as the whirl of the blades carried them over the tree line. A minute of thoughtful silence followed.
“Phoenix,” Carter blurted out unexpectedly, making his voice heard above the background noise. “She’s the best.”
“Huh?” screamed Prestone.
“Ya know, Phoenix of the X-men. Beautiful redhead. Knockout bod. Cool head in a tough situation. That’s the kind of woman for me,” yelled Carter.
“She’s not bad, but give me Storm any day of the week. Better bod and she’s a leader. I like my women to take
charge.”
“Too stiff, man. No emotion.” Dupres had to add his two cents. “Besides, we already decided that White Queen’s the hottest babe. Now Phoenix and Storm aren’t bad, but White Queen’s got the moves and the attitude. The style and the profile. You get some prime grade A meat like that into bed, you come out a man.” Dupres stood up and gyrated his hips to emphasize his point. He looked around upon hearing the snorted chuckles from the other men. “What you lookin’ at?” Dupres shouted.
“Damn,” a voice called out. “Don’t you guys ever fantasize about real chicks?”
“Yeah … and watch where you point that thing,” another man called out, referring to his gyrations. “You could poke someone’s eye out.” Dupres was known to be well endowed. Everyone laughed. Even Major Gaines and Pierre Le Buc had to chuckle.
“That’s right, my man. That’s why the chicks dig me,” said Dupres, as he high-fived the man. They all laughed even more until a moment later when the pilot turned towards them and gave the signal. They were one minute from drop point one.
Major Gaines turned to his men. “This is it, gentlemen. Let’s do it.”
At those words, they placed the blue helmets over their heads, sealed them tight, and double checked their weapons. Major Gaines, Prof. Le Buc, and four other soldiers got up. Rodgers slid the door back for them, holding it fast in the buffeting winds, and Team One jumped out, landed on the ground three feet below, and fanned out smoothly away from the helicopter and into formation. Rodgers slid the door closed and looked towards the remaining soldiers. Team One was out. They were next.
As the helicopter regained flight altitude, the remaining soldiers knew the time for nonsensical banter and meaningless comic book debates was over. Crunch time was upon them. They stared silently at one another over the next two minutes. At first, signs of nervousness crept in. This time they weren’t going out to fight a known enemy. They had no idea about what was out there—and that thought scared some of them. However, as they stared at each other in deep thought, they all knew they could count on each other one hundred percent. Whatever they would face, they would face it together. he closer they got, the more they drew strength from each other, and by the time they arrived at drop point two, they were a true team, with the whole being greater than the sum of the individual parts. By the time they leapt from the metal bird they were fully confident they would succeed. And with all occupants safely on the ground, as the helicopter lifted off and disappeared in the distance, they were ready for anything.
Rodgers, leader of Team Two, un-holstered his radio and brought it to his mouth. “Rodgers to Gaines. Do you read me?”
“Gaines here. No problems with the transmission. Reading you loud and clear, over.”
“Team Two in position. Ready for go,” reported Rodgers. He listened in to the rest.
“Team Three, do you copy?”
“Barely, Major. Team Three in position. Ready for go,” said Rankem, leader of Team Three.
Rodgers heard him perfectly over his two-way. Major Gaines did not.
“I repeat, Team Three, do you copy?”
“Yes, Major. Team Three in position. We’re good for go,” repeated Rankem.
Rodgers got back on line. “Team One, this is Team Two. I can read both of you fine but apparently we’re having trouble cutting across the zone. Relaying, Team Three is in position. Good for go,” said Rodgers.
Major Gaines suspected this might happen, which is why he chose a four team formation and decided against using mini-cams. When Lynx and Hound reported their difficulties, Gaines surmised that the spaceship was somehow radiating interference, making radio transmissions within the vicinity virtually impossible, particularly from one side of the craft to the other. To keep the communication lines open they would have to play telephone around the zone of interference. What this meant was that Team One could only reach Team Two and Team Four but not Team Three. Conversely, teams Two and Four would not be able to communicate with each other.
“Team Four, do you copy?” asked Major Gaines. Rodgers, leader of Team Two, could not clearly hear the affirmative reply.
“Team One to Anchor. Can you read me?” said Gaines to Rebecca.
“Anchor on line,” answered Rebecca.
“Team One is ready. Go,” Gaines said over the radio giving the order to begin.
“Go,” said Rodgers, relaying the message to Team Three.
As a unit they would move in on the spacecraft from four different directions. Rodgers holstered his radio, readied his weapon, and gave the hand sign for Team Two—Carter, Dupres, Prestone, and Vangrell—to move in.
The five men spread out, forming a line perpendicular to their target. Slowly they headed towards the ship, keeping alert with every step they took. Prestone was the point man in the middle. He sprinted ten yards ahead and crouched behind a boulder. Their uphill route made them more susceptible to an attack, so they were extra cautious, just the way Rodgers wanted them to be.
Prestone peered up above the stone, scanning the forest ahead for any signs. The shadows of the trees swayed in the wind. The snow on the ground kicked up in swirls. A few birds, slow to head south in the cold weather, chirped from above. All was as it should be. He flashed a hand sign to Rodgers. Rodgers checked his Geiger counter. Seeing that the radiation in the area was well below dangerous levels, he flashed a thumbs-up then pointed his finger, indicating to move on.
Each man spotted a cover point approximately twenty yards ahead and ran towards it, scanning all angles as they charged ahead. They halted again as Prestone and Rodgers repeated their routine. When the all-clear sign was given they made their way to their next cover point.
Rodgers signaled halt and hand-signed to Dupres for the remaining distance. Dupres flashed five fingers, than three, indicating they reached a radius of 800 meters. They waited.
“Team One in position. All clear,” Major Gaines’ voice exclaimed through the radio.
Rodgers pulled out his radio and spoke. “Team Two in position. All clear.”
“Team Three in position. All clear,” radioed Rankem.
Rodgers heard the message and passed it on. “Team Three in position. All clear.”
Rodgers only heard garbled static of Team Four’s reply. It was clear the interference was getting worse.
“Team One to Anchor. Do you still read?” Gaines voice asked Rebecca.
“Still—” bzzt bzzzzzt skkt “—ust bare—,” bzzzt. Rodgers barely heard the reply, but he knew that all four teams arrived successfully at their first perimeter check point, 800 meters from the ship.
“Go,” said Gaines.
“Go.” Rodgers repeated the reply for Team Three then signaled his team to move on.
Prestone continued as point man, remaining about thirty yards ahead of his group. Team Two continued their stop-and-go routine until Dupres signaled five. They were halfway there.
Suddenly Dupres halted, sensing something amiss. He motioned for Rodgers to come to his position. “Ya hear that?” asked Dupres.
Rodgers listened carefully for a moment. “Birds. So?” he asked.
“They’re gettin’ louder. Movin’,” said Dupres nervously.
“Maybe it’s a nest,” answered Rodgers.
“Maybe they’re feedin’ on the dead,” countered Dupres.
“At least they’re alive. That means there’s probably no deadly contagion or radiation. Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, huh?” Rodgers placed a reassuring hand on Dupres’ shoulder.
“Team One—” skt “—sition. All clear.” Gaines’ voice shot through the radio right on schedule. This time it was less clear.
“Team Two in position.” Rodgers glanced at Dupres before continuing. Dupres shrugged, uncertain if his assessment was correct. “All clear,” Rodgers said, deciding not to burden Gaines with needless speculation.
“Team Three in pos—” skt “—clear.”
Rodgers heard nothing but static from Team Four.
“Team One to Anchor.” skt skt … heard Rodgers, not completely understanding the reply.
“Team One out—” skt “—ten minute intervals. Go,” commanded Gaines.
“Team Three—” bzzzt “—ten minute slots. Go,” relayed Rodgers. This meant from this point on they were too far into the interference zone to contact anyone on the outside. For the next ten minutes, each team was on its own. Rodgers signaled his team onward through the dense, snow-covered forest.
Dupres moved first, heading cautiously toward the birds. The chirps grew in volume, becoming clearer to his ear with each step. Every sound identified itself as he drew closer—leaves rustling, wings frantically flapping, birds cawing at one another. He crouched behind a tree hoping to get a visual confirmation. He saw what looked like a blackbird swooping up above the tree line, but the forest ahead obscured his view. He sidestepped to the right. Movement! He quickly crouched behind another tree, aiming his weapon directly toward the moving leaf-covered branch of the tree. His finger tensed on the trigger, his left eye focused through the magni-scope waiting for the target to reveal itself. Suddenly, the leaves burst apart, a small gray blur moving through them.
The squirrel leapt off the branch, landed softly on the ground below, and scurried about. “Damn,” Dupres whispered in a sigh of relief. On second glance he noticed that something about the squirrel’s shape seemed odd. He zoomed the rifle’s scope onto it. Something was hanging out of its mouth. He focused in further, magnifying the image, feeling his last meal begin to regurgitate when he finally realized what it was. The blasted little rodent was nibbling on an eye. He contained himself and signaled to the others to form a tighter formation. Dupres hurried forward to discover what he already suspected was true. At least a dozen ravens and rodents were scavenging the remains of a carcass which was hideously scattered about the landscape.