"How long do you think it'll take us to reach this mesa and Deep Terlingas?" Leela asked Ylra.
She frowned. "A day, maybe two, but only Kargin knows for sure."
"Then how do you know we can find it at all?" Boko asked in her thick South African accent.
"Oh, we'll find it," Ylra said. "According to Kargin, it's impossible to miss."
The UAV climbed up the side of the cliff, its quad rotors putting it into a vertical ascent several feet from the rocks. "They're too close," Alex said.
"What?" Leela asked.
Alex shook his head. "Doesn't matter." He turned to Ylra. "Any idea what kind of wildlife we'll find in this Char Desert? Please tell me you don't have sand dragons."
Ylra laughed. "Not as far as I know, but I've never been in the Char before."
The UAV was about twenty feet from the summit now. Along the shoreline, the engineers were laying out rolls of det cord and plastic explosives, preparing to set charges to the bridge's supports. The hairs on the back of Alex's neck stood up as he watched them. You're missing something, Alex. What?
Leela's eyes widened. "Who…"
Liv and Boko stared at her then one another.
"What is it?" Alex asked, his intuition screaming.
"Someone's channeling telekinesis," Leela said.
"Cloaked fae-seelie mages?" Ylra said, spinning, her rifle held before her as she sought an enemy.
"That's impossible," Liv said. "Dark elves can't channel telekinesis. Only human mag-sens can."
The UAV pitched abruptly and spun into the cliff face, its rotors smashing against the rocks before it tipped over and fell like a stone, trailing smoke.
"What the hell are you doing?" Huck yelled at the Intelligence operator who had been controlling it. "We can't replace those."
The operator stared at her wide-eyed. "I… It just…"
The bridge, Alex realized in terror. He saw the engineers bent over their explosive charges laid out before them. We never checked the bridge. "Huck!" he yelled. "We need to pull back now. Get everyone—"
The bridge disappeared in a blast of white heat.
32
Alex's heads-up display went dark as a wave of heat sent him hurtling through the air. He might have passed out, because when his visor flickered to life, reenergizing its data streams, he was lying on his back, staring up at the early-evening sky. He heard only a constant ringing as wisps of thick black smoke swirled above him. His brain was processing everything too slowly, as if he were drunk. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and saw movement through the haze as people darted about—all with a complete absence of sound, as if he were watching a show with the volume muted.
Others were on the ground, lying haphazardly or sitting in bewilderment. He coughed then realized he was burning. Or rather, his tactical vest was. He was still wearing gloves, so he patted the flames out then pulled away a piece of smoking, twisted metal and tossed it away from him.
Someone staggered past, a soldier holding her own severed arm. She stopped and glanced at Alex. The look on her face seemed to say, "Crazy day, huh?" She turned to walk away, fresh blood glistening from the gaping wound that had been her armpit, then fell and remained still.
A terrifying thought energized him. The bridge blew up! We're in danger.
He gasped for air but regretted it as intense pain shot through his lungs, and he felt like a mule had kicked him in the solar plexus. But fear and a lifetime of training took over, sending adrenaline coursing through his blood. Get up, soldier. Move! He rolled onto his knees and found his rifle still hanging by its combat sling. He braced the stock against the ground and used the weapon to push himself up, almost falling when a surge of vertigo rushed through him. When the dizziness passed, he ran his fingers over his chest and limbs, but everything seemed in place.
Leela! New fear coursed down his spine, and he spun in panic. There, not ten feet away, his wife staggered upright, dazed but alive. He reached her in a moment, wrapping his arms around her. Her lips moved soundlessly in the gray, smoky void. The others—Ylra, Liv, and Boko—were alive. Liv, still upright thanks to her rig, helped the others up. They had all been just far enough from the blast to survive.
His blood ran cold. The bridge!
The stone construct was gone. Nothing remained but broken arches near the shoreline. The acrid stench of explosives and blood hung in the air like fog. The waters of the once-peaceful river roiled and cascaded. An entire platoon of soldiers had been on that bridge, he realized in horror. Now they were gone. Fires burned on the shoreline, throwing off dense clouds of oily black smoke. Stunned soldiers staggered amidst the corpses and severed limbs of their comrades.
Alex's hearing rushed back in, like water flushing down the drain, and he remembered the quartermaster saying the helmet protected the ear drums from sudden concussive blasts. He could hear, but the sound was muted, as if he were underwater, but even diluted, there was no mistaking the heart-stopping crack-thump of incoming rifle fire. Now, small puffs of dirt flew into the air as bullets struck the ground around them. We're under attack!
A dozen paces away, the XO, Captain Elias Shapiro, stood in confusion, turning and staring about him.
"Get down!" Alex yelled.
Shapiro turned away. A second later, he flew forward, slamming onto the ground, a massive hole the size of a fist in the back of his helmet. Smoke drifted from the hole. Other soldiers fell, unaware they were under fire.
Alex grabbed Leela's arm and thrust her along with him, looking for shelter. "Take cover!" he yelled to the others, to anyone who'd listen.
His voice remained muted, barely audible, but now he heard chatter on the Strike Force radio net. A slurred female voice demanded a sitrep—Huck's. Her call sign flashed on his visor, but he couldn't see her through the smoke.
From the top of the cliffs across the river, he saw the unmistakable flash of muzzle fire. A searing comet lanced down from the cliffs—an anti-armor missile—and detonated against one of the war rigs. When the smoke cleared, nothing remained but a single leg assembly, complete with a human leg still encased within it. Other missiles swept down, each seeking a war rig—and they had been standing together, a perfect target. As his hearing came back, he recognized the distinctive sound of heavy machine-gun fire and saw soldiers disintegrating under the impact of the high-caliber armor-piercing bullets. God help us, we're in a kill zone!
He fired up at the cliffs, putting rounds toward the enemy, then keyed his radio. "Sunray, this is Ranger. We're on the X. Enemy force has the high ground over the river. Over."
"Ranger, acknowledged. All call signs, this is Sunray. Break contact. I say again, execute break-contract drill. Crash back to the objective rally point. Move now! Move now!"
"Contact front," Alex called into the radio, "on the cliffs."
"Contact front," Huck repeated. "Rapid fire."
Those who could acknowledged her orders, but Alex heard the panic in their voices. Combat was always terrifying, but there were two exceptionally dangerous situations when humans froze: the first was the initial panic that came from taking effective enemy fire as the brain struggled with the abstract concept that someone was trying to kill you. The other time was when soldiers found cover but were too frightened to do anything but stay hidden. Either situation was deadly, but right now, to stay in place was to die.
Alex dropped to a knee behind a broken chunk of bridge and activated his radio. "Peel back," Alex yelled into his radio, pausing only to fire rounds up at the cliffs. "Work in your buddy teams and get off the X."
Now, other soldiers returned fire, but shooting up like this, the best they could hope for was to interfere with the enemy's aim. He fired off a dozen more rounds.
Someone must have popped a smoke grenade, because gray-white smoke now mixed with the oily black smoke from the fires.
"Break contact! Break contact!" Alex yelled to Leela as he put more suppressing fire on the cliffs.
"I don't know what
the hell that means," Leela yelled back with heat.
He paused, looking over his shoulder. "It means get the fuck out of here. Run for the jungle."
"What about you?"
"I'll follow. Move!" He returned his attention to the cliffs, firing a steady stream of rounds. He emptied his block of caseless ammunition and carried out a quick combat reload before firing again. In contact with the enemy, ammo equaled time. He prayed they had enough of both to escape.
A quick glance over his shoulder showed him Leela and the others were hurrying away, as were many of the Strike Force soldiers, some carrying wounded comrades or dragging them on ponchos. Others remained behind, tending the wounded, or providing covering fire. Dr. Ireland was nearby, blood dripping from her chin as she tied a tourniquet to a soldier's spurting arm stump. Bullets struck the surrounding terrain, but she carried on as if she didn't know she was under fire. And maybe she didn't.
Tunnel vision in combat was a common occurrence, and the body often shut down nonessential functions like hearing. She probably didn't even realize the danger, but if she didn't move, she'd die.
Alex sprinted for her, dropped back to a knee beside her, and fired more rounds toward the cliffs. "You need to move now!" he yelled.
She stared in confusion at him then the wounded soldier. "I… He…"
"He's right," the soldier she had been tending to said calmly, as if he were discussing the weather. "We can't stay here." He pushed himself up, holding his good arm across his injured one, and strolled away toward the jungle.
Dr. Ireland rose to stop him. "Wait—"
Alex grabbed her arm and yanked her along with him. "We go now, Doc!"
She nodded, the blood still dripping from her chin, and ran beside him.
Miraculously, most of the enemy fire now petered out and stopped, as if they were letting them go. But that made no sense. Why let an enemy out of a kill zone?
Before he could worry further, a soldier appeared through the smoke ahead—Lee. He fired a volley of rounds across the river. "Hurry. I'll cover," he yelled to Alex and the physician.
"Moving!" Alex yelled as he and Dr. Ireland peeled back, away from the ambush. Alex stopped running after about ten paces, turned, and fired. "Covering!"
"Moving!" Lee yelled as he ran past Alex.
They covered each other as they retreated, an impromptu buddy pair, one always firing while the other dashed, playing "up, he sees me, I'm down"—the soldier's mantra that when spoken aloud was the longest you should run in the open before finding cover again. Dr. Ireland, not understanding her danger, ran forward without stopping, and Alex soon lost sight of her, but at least she was moving in the right direction. Alex fired and moved, running through the gun smoke that hung in the air from Lee's rifle.
Alex dropped to a knee, raised his rifle to his shoulder, and fired. "Covering."
"Moving," Lee answered.
A moment later, Alex's weapon stopped. He canted the rifle and saw the ejection port was to the rear—he had blown through another fifty rounds already. "Out!" he yelled to Lee, warning the other man to seek cover and lay down his own suppressing fire. Alex calmly removed a block of caseless ammo from his load-bearing vest, inserted it into the loading chamber behind his pistol grip, and hit the bolt release, chambering another bullet. He did this so effectively you'd never have known he had only picked up the advanced Tac rifle days ago. He fired two quick shots. "Back in!"
"Covering," Lee answered.
"Moving." Alex rose, turned, and bolted. Something smashed into him, throwing him onto his belly.
Pain coursed up his spine, but he shook his head, staggered back to his feet, and ran on. With each step, the sharp pain lessened. His first fear was that he had been shot, but if that had been the case, there was no way his legs would still be working. As long as nothing major had been severed, experience had taught him that the pain would come later. Lee motioned him on, firing more rounds.
Alex's arms ached from holding his rifle so tightly, but he kept going. He saw Dr. Ireland struggling ahead of him and caught up to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her along. Her eyes were wide with fear, the shock settling in now.
"It's okay. Move!" he yelled.
Most of the Strike Force soldiers were just ahead, three hundred meters from the edge of the jungle. Dr. Ireland tripped and fell, dragging Alex with her. Alex saw a bright flash and looked up as a fireball flew at them. We're done, he realized with sudden clarity. He threw himself over the physician, but the flames evaporated into sparks when they came within range of Witch-Bane. The grass was burning, but a ten-foot patch around them was undamaged.
Then Leela was at his side, pulling on his arm. "Hurry! Get up!"
She shouldn't have come back!
Ylra joined them, picked up Dr. Ireland, and threw her across her shoulders in a fireman's carry. She took off faster than anyone should have been able to while carrying a person.
"Go!" Leela repeated as she looked up, scanning the sky.
Then Alex understood as something flew through the smoke above them—an invisible wyvern. The dark-elf mages were here.
Alex and Leela ran after Ylra and Dr. Ireland. The smoke was thicker around them as more smoke grenades detonated. The only gunfire now was coming from the jungle ahead, where the soldiers mustered at the rally point. When he heard the pounding hooves behind them, Alex understood why the enemy had stopped shooting—the kelpie cavalry had crossed the river. We can't outrun cavalry!
He stopped and turned to buy his wife and friends time to get away. He didn't see the cavalry, but they were closing fast. Lee joined him and dropped to a knee beside him. Alex inserted a 40mm grenade into his launcher, his fingers fumbling due to his racing pulse and heaving breath. The ground shook as the cavalry charged forward. The grenade snapped into place.
The first shapes appeared through the smoke, dozens of the aquatic horses with riders holding lances. Alex launched his grenade while Lee opened fire. The grenade detonated, sending the demonic-looking black mounts reeling into one another, several falling and pitching their riders forward. The animals screamed as rifle fire raked through them, but more appeared. Kelpies crashed into those in front, spilling riders and creating more of an obstacle, but most veered to the sides. Light glinted from the points of the riders' lances.
A fireball detonated among them, washing flames over at least a dozen mounts and their riders. The ground shook again but this time from behind Alex as Liv ran past in her gateway rig. She stopped in front of Alex and Lee, raised her arm-mounted needle launchers, and sent a withering volley of darts cutting through the enemy cavalry, shredding both mounts and riders, using her telekinesis to hit multiple targets with each needle.
Huck's voice came over the radio. "All call signs, contact front, enemy cavalry one hundred meters, rapid fire."
Now, a nonstop volley of rifle fire cracked overhead as the Strike Force soldiers opened fire. A series of grenades detonated amongst the cavalry as one of the war rigs standing fifty feet to his right fired its automatic grenade launcher. A second war rig joined the first, with the soldier opening fire with his minigun. Hundreds of 7.62mm brass casings cascaded through the air, glittering like confetti.
"Ranger," Huck said through the radio, "get back now. We'll cover."
Alex and Lee rose.
"Ack," he said into his mike.
Leela and Boko were just behind him. Both mag-sens were casting magic, sending lightning bolts and ice blasts at the cavalry. The enemy charge had stopped, and the enemy mounts milled in confusion, the animals screaming in panic and pain as shrapnel, minigun fire, and magic devastated them.
The automatic grenade launcher stopped when a bolt of lightning flashed from above, frying the exo-suit-wearing soldier. A fireball blossomed over the second war rig, consuming it.
"Mages above us!" Leela yelled. She pointed up with the Brace and sent a lightning bolt flashing into the sky. A wyvern screamed in pain.
"Go, go, go!" Alex yell
ed, pushing his wife ahead of him.
Two fireballs swept down at them but evaporated into sparks before hitting them.
"We've got cloaked airborne mages," someone cried out over the radio.
"Snow White, give us something to shoot at," Huck ordered.
Boko, running ahead of Alex, spun and raised her arms before her. Seconds later, a blinding snowstorm appeared, swirling around her. Alex's visibility vanished, but his visor adjusted on its own, flashing a notification it was going into IR Mode. Everything took on a purple glare with bright-orange lights—people—moving. He knew one of those orange glows was his wife, but he couldn't tell which one, and they became separated again.
"Alex!" she cried out.
"Get to the jungle," he yelled back, seeing the lines of the orange-tinted trees glowing with heat ahead of them. The wyverns shrieked above them. He looked up as a dozen large winged forms soared past. Seconds later, the bright-orange flare of several missile launches flashed from the jungle, followed by white-hot comets as the missiles sped up, then they exploded in the sky and rained shrapnel and hunks of bloody meat. Stingers, he realized. Huck was using the anti-aircraft missiles on the wyvern-mounted dark-elf mages. Way to go, Huck!
A large orange blur rushed at Alex. A kelpie, he realized as his heart thudded with fear. He brought his rifle up and fired a long burst at the demonic mount. The orange blur screamed in pain but rammed into him. He flew back and slammed so hard into the ground that the impact knocked the air from his lungs. He shook his head, clearing it. The mount was dead, but its dark-elf rider rushed at Alex. His fingers grasped for his rifle, but it was gone, the new strap broken again. He staggered upright and stumbled back as the orange blur swung something at him. With the IR vision, he couldn't see anything that didn't give off heat, like a sword, so he backpedaled, reaching to his hip and drawing Witch-Bane. He met the attacker, raising the sword in an overhead block, praying his guess was good. It was. The enemy's sword clanged off his short sword. Alex rushed forward and slammed his shoulder into his smaller opponent, shoving him or her onto the ground.
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