His reverie was short lived as Captain Valverde—the soldier assigned to guard Randall and his group—approached.
“Dr. Randall, once we land, we’ll deploy the squad, top off our fuel tanks, and make our way to the coordinates you and Dr. Chandra provided. We’ll maintain a satellite link with our base for updates on potential hostile forces encroaching on our position. Do you have any questions?” Valverde asked.
“No, I understand. Thank you.”
“Just stick by me, and I’ll make sure you and your son are safe.”
Randall nodded and resumed his post examining the wintry world outside his window. He touched the glass to confirm what his eyes were seeing. He was rewarded with an immediate freezing sensation.
“Better button up, you wouldn’t want to catch a cold,” John commented.
Randall smiled in reply.
“Is everything okay?” John asked.
“Yeah, I just don’t like the idea of you being out here in these conditions. We have no idea what we’ll run into and I would feel a lot better if you would have stayed in Dulce with your sister.”
“And miss out on all of the fun? Look, Dad, I know you’re worried about me, but we’re in this together. Besides, after everything that’s happened, I’m not about to leave you alone out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“I wouldn’t be alone. In case you missed it, I have an armed escort,” Randall said, motioning to the soldiers from Valverde’s squad.
“You know what I mean,” John replied as his father smirked. “Besides, it’s nice for me to be a part of your research this time. Aside from the rough patch you guys just got through, you and Sam have always shared a special bond over your love of archaeology. Now it’s finally my chance to share the experience with you and I’m not going to miss it.”
All Randall could do was nod in agreement.
“Do you think Sam and Dr. Chandra will discover anything else in the message before we find the base?” John asked.
“I’m not sure, but it’s really amazing to think we’re actually reading information written by a previously undiscovered culture. There’s so much we could learn from them. Think of the possibilities!”
Now it was John’s turn to smile at seeing his father’s mood suddenly brighten.
“Oh, by the way, there’s something we need to do before we find the base,” John said, reaching into his jacket pocket and removing a small container.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a drug that Jacob and I synthesized to block the mind control properties of our original research compound. We’ve only had limited testing, but it seemed effective. I hid a sample of it in my car about a month ago when I started having a strange feeling about what was happening at work,” John responded, sinking a syringe into a vial.
“Is it safe?” Randall asked, rolling up his sleeve.
“Yes. Our human trials showed no major side effects. The only thing that might happen is you might feel a bit woozy for a while and have dry mouth,” John said, sinking the needle into his father’s arm. “It’s a neuro-blocker that fills the nerve receptors, thereby preventing a foreign substance from binding. In theory, it should help counteract the mind-control powers caused by the alien secretions if you happen to come into contact with the substance.”
Randall rolled his sleeve down and put his jacket back on. “How long will it work?”
“In our tests, the serum was able to block the effects of the mind-altering agent for 72 hours. That should cover us during our time here. I have one additional dose for each of us if we stay longer.”
The captain’s voice boomed through the intercom. “Fasten your seatbelts, we’re coming in for a landing. This might get a little rough.”
As John put away the serum, Gabby joined the two of them and they all strapped themselves into the wall-attached harness system. As she did so, John offered the serum to her as well. Gabby accepted, each of them having one dose in their systems.
Once the large plane had come to a stop, a cavernous door opened in the rear section and the soldiers began descending with their equipment. As the opening expanded, Randall was greeted with a heavy blast of freezing Antarctic air. In spite of the many layers of polar-rated clothing, he shivered as his body registered the sudden drop in temperature.
“Folks, you’ll be riding in that vehicle,” Captain Valverde said, pointing to a camouflage painted Bv206S Tracked Armored Personnel Carrier. “We’ll keep the three of you safely tucked in between the lead and trail vehicles. You’ll be accompanied by a squad of men led by Staff Sergeant Howard. In the event of a firefight, I want you to stay in the carrier and get down. Sergeant Howard and his men will do the rest.”
Randall eyed the APC, wondering if it was warm inside.
Valverde walked to Randall, handing him a black phone.
“What’s this?” Randall asked.
“Satellite phone. If you get separated from the group, you can contact us and we can contact you. We programmed the phone with our satellite phone number. Just hit the first preset,” Valverde replied, showing Randall how to operate the device. Randall tucked it into his coat’s inner pocket.
“Okay, load up and move out!” Valverde shouted.
The treaded vehicles carved their way through the ghostly white terrain in single file. Outside, a nearly seamless blanket of white snow was punctuated by the occasional craggy rock formation jutting from the ground like sentinels keeping watch over the lifeless void. As Randall peered through the side window of the personnel carrier, he marveled at the stark beauty of the frozen Antarctic graveyard. Since they had started their trek from McMurdo, they hadn’t encountered another living creature. Randall assumed that they wouldn’t for quite some time.
The weather had also deteriorated since McMurdo, and their visibility had dwindled to a few dozen yards. A storm was moving across the frozen expanse and they were pushing headlong into the worst of it.
“What do you think we’ll find when we get to the base?” Gabby asked.
Randall considered the question. “It’s hard to say. We’re speaking about a highly intelligent species, probably considerably older than our own. Their technology almost certainly puts ours to shame and we have no way of knowing what their home environment is like. That’s what makes this so interesting—we’ll be the first humans to experience this type of habitat.”
“How much farther till we get there?” Gabby asked.
“Less than a mile.”
Randall’s reply had barely escaped his lips when a monstrous explosion obliterated the personnel carrier directly in front of them, the flames licking the windshield of their own vehicle. Fragments of glass and metal rained to the ground, littering the pristine white snow with dark shards of debris as the destroyed, blackened hull of the vehicle skidded onto its side, smoldering.
“Shit! Sergeant, we’ve lost the lead vehicle!”
Before Howard could register a reply, another explosion annihilated the carrier to the rear of them, sending flaming pieces of that vehicle cartwheeling into the wintry sky. Their own vehicle rocked wildly from the compression wave generated by the blast and the back window cracked in a spider-web fashion as large pieces of distorted metal slammed into the APC.
“Fire teams, I want a perimeter around us, now!”
The soldiers poured from the carrier, taking defensive positions in the snow, straining to find their unseen assailant. They fired wildly into the frozen landscape, hoping to repel their attackers. Small arms fire crackled in the distance as a hail of bullets smashed into the exterior of the Snow Cat. From their perch inside, Randall could hear the sergeant yelling orders to his men, who tried desperately to defend them.
The enemy gunfire was increasing, causing the hardened side windows to crack under the relentless barrage. Randall heard the shouts of Sergeant Howard’s men as one by one they succumbed to the relentless assault. They fought bravely, but there was little they could do. They were trapped and their attacker
s held every advantage.
Another blast detonated several feet from their vehicle, sending soldiers’ bodies somersaulting into the air and shattering the weakened glass of the APC. Bits of the window rained down on Randall as he pressed himself against the floor for protection. The acrid smoke from the blast poured through the broken window, filling their lungs and causing them to choke. The door to the carrier burst outward as Sergeant Howard struggled to pull his bloodied body into the vehicle. Grabbing him by his wrists, Randall yanked him in and John jammed the door closed. Blood oozed from the many wounds covering his battered face as Howard stumbled past the others to the communication system.
“Base, this is Eagle, we are under heavy attack by unknown opposing force! All fire teams are down, commence Operation Terminus, code delta–delta–four–niner, repeat, commence Operation Terminus immediately!”
“Eagle, this is base, code authenticated, commencing Operation Terminus.”
“What in the hell just happened! What’s Operation Terminus?” John blurted.
“Operation Terminus is our contingency plan in case the Red Dragons reached the base before us. One of our subs is preparing to launch a nuclear-tipped cruise missile to the coordinates your dad provided for the alien base. I’m sorry folks, but we can’t allow anyone else to get to that base before us.”
“You mean there’s a nuclear missile heading in our direction right now and it’s going to destroy the base?” John growled. “General Flores never said anything about this!”
“It was a need-to-know option and the General decided you didn’t need to know.”
“Dammit, I don’t appreciate you taking license with the well-being of my son and Gabby,” Randall said.
Howard looked to the floor of the carrier. “We didn’t expect this to happen.”
“How long before it strikes?” Randall asked.
“Seven hours to impact.”
Randall spun in Howard’s direction. “Seven hours?” He turned to see John and Gabby both staring at him, eyes wide. Nothing more was said as silence descended on them like a heavy winter cloak.
Outside the carrier, the shooting subsided, replaced by the sound of soldiers shuffling through the snow. The enemy was moving into position around them.
“In the APC, we have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up,” an enemy soldier said.
Howard cracked the door open. “I’m unarmed and coming out.” The sergeant turned to Randall. “Wait here and stay low.”
He pushed the door open and stumbled out of the vehicle, arms held high above his head. A single cracking sound emanated from the distance as a bullet struck him in the temple, jerking his head backward. His lifeless body slumped to the ground as a pool of crimson formed behind his head.
A soldier in white winter fatigues appeared in the doorway, his assault rifle at the ready. Randall moved in front of Gabby and John, shielding them from him. As he did so, another man appeared by the soldier’s side, smiling beneath his fur-lined parka.
“Dr. Randall, we really need to stop meeting like this,” Dumond said, smirking.
Randall could only stare at the face looking back at him, blinking in disbelief.
“How did you find us?” Randall asked.
“With the help of your friend, Agent Gutierrez.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I would never help a psychopath like you!” Gabby shouted, her hands balled into fists.
“Your partner Charlie was a very clever man. He installed a tracking device in your phone for Colonel Shaw to know where you were at all times. A detail we learned after interrogating one of his men. All we needed was for you to take it with you.”
“You son of a bitch! If I get a chance, I’m going to kill you!” Gabby yelled, trying to scramble past Randall. He held her back, grabbing her arm as she tried to rush Dumond.
“That’s highly unlikely. However, we do need Dr. Randall’s help with the location of the base. Dr. Randall, I’ll need the coordinates.”
“And if I don’t provide them?”
“I’ll have to kill your friend and your son.”
“If I tell you, you’ll kill us all anyway. Let them go and I’ll take you to the base myself. You may need help communicating with them and I’m the only one here who can read their language.”
“An interesting proposition, but I have a better idea. We’ll take all three of you and this time, I promise, if you cross me, I’ll kill both of them myself.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
The massive soldier standing next to Dumond reached into the APC and yanked Randall out, tossing him into the snow. He did the same with John and Gabby, then stood towering over them.
“Lieutenant Reilly, escort our guests back to base,” Dumond said. “And in case you have thoughts of escaping, my snipers would love nothing more than some target practice.”
The group plodded slowly through the thick snow, their feet sinking several inches with each step they took. Dumond’s men fared much better, wearing snow shoes for the trek back to their base. As they crested a small hill, Randall saw a small city of tents secured to the icy terrain in anticipation of the storm. Sitting directly north of the tents was a BELL 212 Twin Huey helicopter. Painted bright red, the chopper stood out against the white landscape like a hundred-watt bulb in a darkened closet.
As they approached the encampment, it became apparent that Dumond had spared no expense in assembling a small army. Dozens of armed men in white camouflaged uniforms guarded the outer perimeter of the base, armed with an assortment of small arms and heavy artillery. Of special interest to Randall were several men holding what appeared to be hand-held missile launchers. His eyes shifted to Dumond, who was in front of the group, engaged in a lively conversation with one of his direct reports.
“Anti-aircraft missiles, Dumond? Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive, even for you?”
“I pride myself on being prepared. After all, who knows what we might discover once we get to our destination?”
“While I appreciate your desire to overcompensate for, well, for something, don’t you think these creatures would be advanced enough to survive an attack by technologically inferior weapons?”
Dumond ignored Randall’s baiting and returned to his previous conversation.
While they hadn’t traveled far, the difficulty of walking through the deep snow had made Randall exceptionally tired. He stood on the edge of the base, hunched over, trying to catch his breath. A ringing noise started in his ear. He tried to ignore it, but it grew louder and more prevalent taking on a whistling tone. The sound grew in intensity, causing Randall to turn and look at John.
“Do you hear that?”
“You mean the whistling sound?”
“You hear it, too! I thought I was just my imagination.”
“No one told you to stop! Keep walking!” Reilly shouted.
The noise grew louder and more piercing. The group, almost in unison, looked toward the sky just in time to see a blurred streak followed by a fiery tail strike the center of the encampment, obliterating a large portion of Dumond’s base and creating an enormous impact crater in the snowy ground.
“Move!” a soldier yelled, ramming the butt of his gun into Randall’s back.
“To where?”
Another shriek filled the sky as the mercenaries scrambled for cover, searching for signs of their attackers. Dumond cursed as one of his men pushed him to the ground, covering him just as another missile slammed into the earth, sending an eruption of snow, dirt, men, and machinery skyward. Smoke billowed from the ground where the missile had impacted and debris rained down from the heavens.
“They’re targeting the base! Take cover behind the Snow Cats and return fire!” Reilly ordered his men.
Randall watched as Dumond and his bodyguard raced for one of the large personnel carriers on the edge of his compound.
“Who’s attacking the base?” Gabby asked.
“Follow them!” the guard yelle
d, ignoring Gabby’s question, nearly knocking Randall to the ground as he shoved him. The group surged forward with two of Dumond’s men prodding them toward the APCs. Randall heard the distinct cracking sound of gunfire from behind him and turned in time to see the mercenaries behind them fall to the ground, blood running freely from numerous bullet wounds in their bodies.
Realizing the chance to escape and the need for protection, Randall scanned the terrain and spotted an outcropping of rocks to the east of the camp.
“We need to find cover! Head for those rocks over there!”
The three sprinted to the ice covered stones as the battle raged on. Caught by surprise, Dumond’s men were taking a beating. Looking back in the direction they had come, Randall saw dozens of figures rising from the snow like ghosts, fire spewing from the barrels of their guns. They mowed down Dumond’s men, who returned fire in a futile attempt to repel them.
A thunderous thudding sound appeared from the north as two green military choppers crested the hill and descended on Dumond’s base. They unleashed a fury of rockets that rained death upon the contingent of men remaining. Someone on the ground managed to launch a missile at the attackers and Randall watched as the contrail rose from the ground, striking one of the choppers in its fuselage. The helicopter shuddered upon impact, a shower of flames emerging from its side as it spun wildly out of control and summersaulted into the snowy earth.
The remaining chopper, having seen the attack, homed in on the origin point of the missile and fired round after round of rocket pods into the ground. The resulting devastation defused the attack and turned the pristine landscape into a bloody, smoldering pile of rubble. Seeing the threat neutralized, the chopper commenced its attack on the tent city, laying waste to the encampment as another helicopter joined the fray.
Dozens of soldiers and heavily armed vehicles descended on the remnants of Dumond’s troops, mercilessly cutting them down with a relentless barrage of automatic gun fire. Randall watched as mercenaries tried to flee the massacre only to be shot as they ran away. Only a handful managed to escape.
The Bermuda Connection (A Nick Randall Novel Book 2) Page 21