By Dawn's Early Light

by Jason Fuesting

  “So what are we looking for?” Eric asked once they were outside. Eyes glued to the starry heavens, Turing held out his hand and motioned. Eric pulled out a set of bulky, expensive looking binoculars from the case and handed them to Turing.

  “What we’re looking for,” Turing commented as he hit a button and held them to his eyes, “should be overhead right now, bit to the west. Ah, there it is.”

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “You won’t for a few more seconds. It’s still in the shadow.”

  In the darkness overhead a white star sprung into existence.

  “What is it?”

  “Cerberus.”

  “Can I see?” Eric asked and Turing handed him the binoculars. “Holy shit, Turing, what are these?” he asked, boggling at the information displayed in the periphery of the viewfinder as he scanned for the station.

  “Expensive even by my standard,” Turing replied with a chuckle. “Find her yet? Left thumb, button closest to you zooms out.”

  With a barely audible buzz, the image pulled back and Eric quickly located the station. “Oh, that’s convenient.”

  “Hold the station in the center of the viewfinder. Apply slight pressure to the left pointer finger button, hold the station inside the brackets that appear until they blink. Then push the button the rest of the way.”

  “Whoa,” Eric breathed when the image jumped. Instead of the tiny formless blob wobbling about before his eyes before, Cerberus Station filled the most of viewfinder in crisp detail.

  “The display next to the compass at the top tell you the displacement offset. Keep that as close to zero and as steady as you can manage, the system can only compensate for so much. Tap the right ring finger button, does the read-out still display twelve hundred by five thirty by a hundred?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, press the right pinky button.”

  “Uh, Turing, what’s this data it’s spitting out? Major and semi-major axis? Periapsis, apoapsis?”

  “Nothing terribly important, just orbital data.”

  Eric looked over at Turing, leaving the question hanging.

  “I’m keeping tabs on the station.”

  “Why? Planning an escape attempt?” Eric asked, somewhat hopefully.

  Turing snorted and scoffed, “An escape attempt? If there were a way, we would have been gone long before your arrival. No, Eric, there’s no way off this rock. The faster you get that through your head, the safer you’ll be. The most dangerous thing in the world is false hope. Eric, do you know what it’s like to see someone just give up on life? Do you know what it’s like to see the light just disappear from your father’s eyes and watch him waste away?”

  Eric opened his mouth, but Turing heatedly cut him off, “No, you bloody don’t. You have no bloody idea what that’s like. I was the last one, the last hope Father had that even if they couldn’t escape this place, then his line would go on. He didn’t give up when they caught him. He didn’t give up when they smashed this place and left him here. No, my father’s hope died the day I walked through that door. It took his body another year to realize it.

  “So, no, there won’t be an escape attempt. There’s no way off this sodding god-forsaken, worthless rock. I’ve made my peace with that. You should, too, before the truth crushes you.”

  “Shit man, I’m sorry,” Eric sputtered.

  Turing sighed. “It’s okay, Eric.” The heat in his voice vanished as he looked skyward. “I very much want off this planet, but I can’t see how it’s possible. Of all the things for those bumbling idiots to get right, creating an inescapable prison had to be one of them.” Eric nodded and turned to go back inside when Turing emotionlessly breathed, “They’re lucky.”

  “How do you figure, Turing?”

  “If there was a way off of Solitude, I would start with the sycophant usurpers, my cousins and their parents. There would be no place they could flee to, no hole deep enough for any of them to hide.”

  Eric shifted his weight uncomfortably for several moments. “Well, I’ve got to get going. Have to meet Hadrian at supply in ten minutes.”

  Turing glanced back at him. “Oh yes, that business about the old house? I’m terribly curious how someone got into the vault. Between Hadrian and Byron though, I have faith the matter will be resolved. What’s in that vault will be instrumental to our survival.”

  Eric let himself back inside. Despite the warmth inside, the Turing’s sudden detachment chilled him the rest of the way down to supply. At the bottom of the stairs, the door into supply hung open.

  Eric stopped at the doorway and knocked. “Hadrian?’

  “In the office,” Hadrian replied. “Come on back.”

  Eric rounded the corner to find the table crowded with a multitude of gear, full magazines, and two rifles.

  “Just finished pulling all the supplies. Bags are half packed, you mind taking care of yours?” Hadrian asked. Eric nodded. As Eric stepped up to his pack, Hadrian commented, “We’re not going to need nearly as much in the line of food. Hopefully we won’t need the ammo, but I’m not taking any chances. Has Byron shown you anything related to demo?”

  “Demo?”

  Hadrian sighed. “Demolitions. Explosives. I’ll take that as a no. Have you used basic explosives like hand grenades?”

  “No.” Eric caught the eye roll.

  Without slowing his pack job, Hadrian began, “Okay, so, grenades are pretty straight forward: pull pin, throw grenade toward enemy, three to five seconds later boom. You follow?” Eric nodded affirmative. Hadrian leaned over and flipped open one of the hard plastic cases. “Take four.”

  Eric reached into the foam-lined case and gingerly pulled four ovoid grenades out of their slots.

  “Okay, so, two of those in the back pouches on your pack, two in the rig hanging on the back of the chair next to you, right side pouch since you’re left handed. See that spool of yellow and black wire next to you? Measure off about a hundred meters or so. Use the knife on the table, roll and weave it into the side of your pack like mine.”

  “Sure,” Eric responded. As he played out the thick wire, he realized the wire had no metal core. Every half meter he found a mark with numbers that climbed as he pulled it out. Well, that will make this easier to measure. “What is this?”

  “Detcord. If you like your fingers, don’t set it on fire or touch anything electrical with it. Okay, last but not least for fun items you’re carrying,” Hadrian said, digging under his side of the table. “Put these on the outside of your pack. I’ll carry the advex.”

  Eric took the two flat green plastic boxes Hadrian handed him. Curious, he turned them over and found matching embossed labels on both: Front toward enemy.

  “Hadrian, I’m no expert here, but this seems like a lot of explosives.”

  “It is. I’d bring more if I could. P equals plenty, Eric. Always have P.”

  “Fair enough,” Eric said and willed his hands steady as he gently cut the detcord. He liked having hands, after all. After a quick study of Hadrian’s pack, Eric replicated the way the cord had been rolled and used the last meter to secure the roll to his pack. “What I was getting at, though, is you said this was supposed to be a sneak and peek. Aren’t explosives the opposite of sneaky? And why do we have this huge stack of magazines sitting out? There’s got to be at least a hundred of them.”

  “Eighty, actually. These mags on the table are spares for Byron and Julien,” Hadrian said and sighed. “There’s only going to be two of us, Eric. How many of them are there? Just four guys? Can we count on that? Explosives have always been a great force multiplier. If things go to shit, and you can almost always bet they will, then all the bang we’re hiking in with might save our asses. That, and we might have to destroy the bunker. Can’t do that with just a rifle.”

  Eric snorted. “No, that’d be pretty hard.”

  “What? I can see the look on your face, what is it?”

  “Well, earlier you said Byron was out of
practice so you wouldn’t bring him, why bring me? I’ve never done this.”

  “Well, the simple truth is I need someone to watch my back, but I can’t leave this place defenseless if shit goes sideways. Julien is a good soldier, but his idea of soldiering isn’t quite what’s needed. If we don’t come back, Byron’s the better choice for my job. You? Yeah, you’re about as green as they get, but Byron says you have promise. You coming with me hits two birds with one stone. I keep home safe, and find out if Byron’s right or not.”

  “Yeah, so don’t fuck this up,” Eric said solemnly.

  “No. Never fuck anything up if you can help it. Perfection should always be your goal. Anyways, let’s wrap up. I put six of the 6.8 and four of the 7.62 in the pouches on your pack. Since you’re carrying the 6.8, you’ve got six mags for it in your chest rig. Do you know what size hat you wear?”

  “Extra large.”

  “Figured your head was a few sizes too big,” Hadrian said with a grin and tossed a camouflaged helmet on the table in front of Eric. “Normally we’d roll with boonies, but these are a bit warmer. Low light monocle is in the top flap of your ruck. Spare batteries are there, too. Last thing, we need to see if this ghillie cloak fits you.”

  Over the next half hour, Hadrian explained how most of the equipment worked while helping Eric get into and adjust his gear. As they left, Hadrian showed Eric how to add local foliage to the ghillie for better camouflage. By the time dawn arrived, the pair had cleared the wall by more than a kilometer.

  Sometime shortly after noon, Hadrian stopped amid a cluster of trees.

  “Rest here, check your socks, get some food in you. We’re going to be here until nightfall,” Hadrian whispered. Hadrian checked the immediate vicinity before settling in and doing precisely he’d instructed earlier. At Hadrian’s insistence, the pair took turns keeping watch while the other napped. Thankfully, the material in the mottled white and brown ghillie helped keep him warm, despite the pine blocking the sun over him.

  As the sun traveled farther along its downward arc, Eric became steadily more on edge. Shortly before dusk, Hadrian began going through his pack.

  “Okay, so we’re leaving the packs here,” Hadrian whispered. “You’re going to need to bring that detcord and the claymores though.”

  Eric stuffed a mine into each of the bulky stowage pockets on his chest rig and looped the detcord under an armpit and around his neck. Next came the night vision monocle which attached to an adapter on his helmet. After testing the monocle, Hadrian motioned for Eric to come over to him. The soldier had sketched out a rough map in the snow.

  “Okay, so we’re a bit over a kilometer away, here. The house is here. This flat space on the south side is the landing pad. The bunker is built into the hillside on the north, here. There’s really only three decent points of egress off this rise. There’s a trail that runs northeast from the house up past the bunker and another that runs southeast from the house through the landing pad. Trail by the bunker goes farther up the mountain, trail by the pad goes down. Third way out is our ingress point. Past the trees on the west side of the house, the rise continues for another klick before descending into open terrain. You copy?”

  At Eric’s nod, Hadrian continued, “First part of the plan will be pretty simple. Stay behind me and keep an eye out while I rig a light show. Once that’s done, we’ll swing wide to the south side. There’s a small knoll on the edge of the field, right near where the trail starts to drop. I’m going to want you to position yourself about here on the 7.62 using that knoll as concealment from both the house and the trail. I’ll rig another light show on that path while you’re settling in. Once you’ve got overwatch, I’ll scoot up the east side and set up another group of surprises on the other trail. We can fix just about anything other than you shooting me, so know where I’m at all times. Beyond that, do not fire unless I’m firing or I’m obviously compromised. Good?”

  Another nod. “Okay, so once we’ve got the perimeter laid out, next task is to check the house. I won’t lie, that’s going to be a motherfucker if these chuckleheads have somehow set up in there. Still, if we get that far without getting spotted, I’ll be happy as shit. Anyway, worst case scenario, I’ll sweep around the north side, make entry through the back door. I’ll want you to keep an eye on the south and east side windows. You should have decent line of sight into several of the rooms on the second floor. If shit goes to hell, you pop whoever is in there.

  “Normally, we’d have radios. Can’t hazard that shit with the drones around, so we’re going to be boned for comms. If we’re lucky, these clowns haven’t found the night vision or figured out how to restore power to the place. If they don’t have NVGs, we’ll be able to use the IR designators for signaling. Don’t point it skyward, just in case. That could suck. Anyway, we’ll work out some quick blink codes before we scoot, we’ve got some time. Don’t forget, night vision lets you see other folks in the dark. It does not make you invisible. Newbie mistake number one.

  “Oh, and before I forget, the clackers for the explosives are short-range RF chirp, low power. It shouldn’t attract a drone, but be damn ready to find cover if we get company anyway. I’ll set the ID on the charges in order, so charge one will be the ones in the woods, two will be the claymores by the knoll, and three up by the bunker. Do me a favor and try not to hit them while I’m near. Getting almost blown up got old long a long time ago. Also, last chance to take a shit. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

  Hadrian brushed the snow map away while Eric looked for a suitable place to dig a hole. After a brief bathroom interlude, Eric rushed to memorize Hadrian’s impromptu blink code. Once Hadrian was satisfied the two pushed their packs under separate trees, tugged down their monocles, and pulled up the cowls on their ghillie cloaks.

  Stalking away from the copse, Hadrian commented over his shoulder, “Oh, one more thing, remember the safety this time.” The commando’s toothy white grin stood out in the well-lit monochrome green night. Their already cautious pace slowed as they came up the rise to the woods west of the cabin.

  “Cord,” Hadrian whispered with an open hand out. As Eric handed over the detcord, Hadrian ordered, “Cover me.”

  Picking his steps carefully, Eric slinked forward to a nearby tree stump. Eric took a knee and deliberately swept the vicinity while Hadrian bounded forward. Only the sound of the wind moved through the night’s chill air. Eric could make out the outline of the cabin mostly concealed ahead of them. That’s a bit big for a cabin. Three levels? Eric shrugged to himself, rubbed the back of his glove against his numb nose, and went back to scanning the area. Nothing moving, no lights. If it weren’t for that owl, this place would be dead.

  Hadrian slowed and slung his rifle over his back. Detcord in hand, he ducked under the boughs of one of the larger evergreens to Eric’s left. Some thirty seconds later Hadrian emerged. Knocking snow over the cord, he made way to the next tree to his south whose lower branches were mostly bare. Eric watched the commando loop the cord around the trunk several times before moving on to the next.

  Eric froze. What was that, breaking glass? Hadrian crouched lower and slunk to the next tree, staying in its shadow.

  A drunken voice carried around the north side of the house, “I told you guys, this place is the motherlode.”

  Eric thumbed selector off safe as the crunching of boots in snow grew louder. Too much crap in the way. Eric frowned as a shadowed figure rounded the north corner. It lurched several steps, faced the building, and planted its feet. What the?

  “You guys better not drink the rest of it before I’m done pissing.”

  Unable to see the figure clearly through the branches, Eric grit his teeth. Really wishing this monocle had zoom. Do they have night vision or not? Fuck, can’t tell. The drunk weaved about for several seconds before veering back the way he came. Eric glanced back to where Hadrian had been standing to find only empty space. Shit, where’d he go? After some searching, he spotted the commando waving a
t him from the edge of the trees on the south side. Shit, he’s going to be pissed. Eric abandoned the stump and tried to sneak as fast as he could.

  “Watch your focus,” Hadrian whispered to him when Eric caught up. “That’s how folks sneak up on you. Doesn’t look like they have any low light gear, so we should be good. Let’s get you in position.”

  Eric tried not to stare as they cleared the tree line. Unlike the cabin he’d been to several days prior, this one was built more like Turing’s manor. Easily several times the size of the west cabin, the house before him had a distinctly more modern feel to its design. Fuck clearing that thing. Eric glanced into the several large windows they passed. The interior was just as dark as the night outside. Nothing moved inside or peered back out at him. The pair paused at the southeast corner long enough for Hadrian to peek at the far side.

  They made it half way across the open flight pad when the cloud cover parted. With sudden illumination careful plodding became a swift jog to the scrub ahead. Eric was still breathing hard when he handed over his claymores.

  “Keep your eye on me once I’m out there, Eric. Use the illuminators like we talked about if you see something,” Hadrian told him as they swapped rifles. The commando slinked off to the descending path off to the right as Eric deployed the bipod’s legs.

  Pushing his monocle up, he nestled into the brush behind the heavy rifle and tugged the lip of his ghillie over his raised monocle. Rolling half on his side to reach the pouches, Eric pulled two 7.62 magazines from his rig and set them next to the rifle. Snugging up to the rifle, Eric remembered one last thing. He pulled the remote detonator out, thumbed the power switch, and sat it next to the magazines. Prepared, Eric squeezed the pressure pad on the rifle’s forward rail, activating the IR illuminator in a series of flashes. Moments later, Hadrian acknowledged Eric’s message in the same fashion.

  Damn, this scope kicks ass. Unlike his monocle, where anything distant presented as vague, blurry shapes and streaks of white noise, the scope made everything seem bathed in green daylight. Minute details like the wood grain on the front door to the house jumped out at him. He swept the length of the house and stopped just beyond, staring at the bunker entrance. That’s not good.