Grant pulled two charges, one fragmentary and one incendiary, from his armor and grasped them side by side in his hand. From the corner of his eye, he saw the keypad on the door light up.
Here we go, he thought before scaling the wall. Once at the top he pulled both pins and dropped down like he had before.
The landing was the same, except this time he pitched both grenades hard at the barricade swarming with aliens as they prepared for an assault from the door. What the alien defenders didn’t suspect were grenades rolling in beneath their feet. The dual blasts engulfed the closer team with searing fire amidst a staggering shockwave carrying jagged chunks of searing metal in all directions.
Grant’s low stance saved him the same fate. He took his first group of shots and ran a burst across the squirming mass before him. In like fashion, his team opened fire from above, catching them between two opposing angles. The closer group of the creatures only lasted seconds. The ones on the far side switched their focus to the squad above and took cover between the walls as best they could.
Cautiously, as to not be shot by his own men, Grant stayed low and approached the first position to get a better angle on their opponents. The aliens here were a mix of the Aquillians he fought before along with two more of the strange ones in heavy, black and smoking armor. The smoke billowing from the armored plates could have been a concealment system. Then again, it could have been a side effect of the grenades. Everything in a five meter radius was black and crispy. He kept moving to the right to clear the next wall.
Othello kept his eye on the soldier as he moved forward along the walkway. “He’s at the right wall! Shift fire left!” he shouted, hoping the rest could hear. It wouldn’t be much longer; there were maybe three remaining on the far side.
Scott had put maybe twenty rounds through his rifle and thought he was finally getting the hang of it. It was far easier resting the barrel on the edge of the wall than it was running around free-handed. He might not be hitting anything but it wouldn’t be for lack of effort. The battle had only lasted seconds but it felt like it was dragging on forever.
A few shots snapped by his head, plowing into the wall beyond and he ducked instantly in response as the bits of concrete rained back down. High ground or not, they were still in combat and he had his life on the line.
There were only two aliens left by Grant’s count, and one had just stuck its head up. He drew down, applied the standard forty-five grams of pressure to his rifle’s trigger and sent a massive hollow point straight into the side of its face. One left. Grant kept his rifle up and moved closer. He had almost made it to the open door but still couldn’t see it.
Something rolled along the ground to stop a meter from his feet. He looked down to see a baton-like rod of milled aluminum. Standard issue flashbang. Grant’s mind instantly reported and without hesitation kicked it back and dropped back, cursing aloud and shielding his face from the looming blast.
Even through the layers of safeties built into his suit, Grant heard the grenade explode as if it was inside his helmet. The flash illuminated right through his hand, armor, visor and eyelids, incapacitating him for a moment too long. He shook it off and pointed his rifle back at his unseen foes, firing blindly into the air.
The alien stood again but moved too quickly for Grant to hit. In one fluid movement it dove over the edge of the wall going down the main borehole, deeper into the mine as Grant had done before.
Grant cursed the creature again, hosing shots harmlessly into the abyss. As his vision returned, he saw them: seven climbing ropes attached to the top of the wall, leading down to the next level. “Dammit! Gaddamn freaks!” Grant grumbled as he crawled to his feet to check the rigs more closely.
They led deep into the darkness below and left no sign of the alien. All of the ropes had slack on their lines. Why didn’t he shoot them when he had the chance?
Scott followed the group in a run around the sprawling site. His heart was racing again. How did professional soldiers do this every day? They rounded the second lap and quickly came to the first barricade surrounded by a mass of shot and burned corpses. Another macabre reminder of how close to the grave he really was.
They reached Grant, who was pacing sternly back and forth, obviously on the radio with the ground team commander. “That’s right, they ground floor is clear…No, we didn’t get all of them. At least one dropped down into the shaft.” He paused. “No, we can’t stop now. I’ll go alone but we can’t give them time to regroup. We still don’t know what they’re looking for!” He paused again. “One squad? Yes, we can wait two minutes. After that, I’m going in.”
Grant looked back at Scott, the miners, security forces, and remaining colonists. “You’ve got two minutes to rearm if you want to go in with me.”
20
On the other side of the base Major Kael exchanged glances with his Sergeant First Class. “Send them Third Squad.”
Mason stared back. “You’re letting some pilot get away with this? Lord knows where his head’s at.”
To some extent Kael agreed with the NCO. “At the very least he’ll keep the Aquillians on their toes. We need to secure the colonists and facility. If the aliens have some great plan, let him find it. Until then, we need to get this place cleaned up and support them the best we can. I don’t want it getting out that we let a bunch of foolhardy civilians get massacred.”
The sergeant shook his head ever so slightly but keyed his radio. He gave the team ninety seconds to gather themselves and get to the dig.
Kael continued to check rooms. What must have been the twentieth door hissed open and he pointed the flashlight on his rifle into the darkness. “Human!” he said, identifying himself and trailed the light across the space. He didn’t see any sign of a struggle but felt a presence so he paused. Hardly a second passed before the wall locker a few steps away broke open and two colonists tumbled out on the floor.
“Two live ones!” he shouted back to the soldiers behind him before kneeling to check on them. Both had fallen flat to the floor and Kael guessed they had been holed up for hours if not days, not daring to move. Dehydrated and starving, he surmised as he helped them to their feet.
“Th-h-thank you-” the one man mumbled before Kael cut him off.
“Don’t talk. You’re going to be okay,” he said reassuringly to the pair as three of his soldiers entered. Each took an arm over a shoulder and helped the colonists stumble out. “Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I say to,” the major ordered in an attempt to save them the gruesome carnage they were about to wade through.
The sergeant checked the empty room one last time before shutting and locking the door. He let his commander take the survivors back to the hangar and continued on to the next. “I hope they’re not the only ones we find,” he grumbled quietly.
* * *
“Are you sure you saw him take this rope down?” Othello asked aloud as he peered over the edge of wall deep into the dig. Four ropes had been strung up on the railing about a meter apart and were draped down to the central dig site below.
“I’m sure,” Grant responded soundly, pacing the floor.
The central floor was easily another hundred meters below them and the miner’s flashlight barely make a dent in the darkness. “The others stop on the main floor,” he said and paused as Grant climbed to the edge of the wall and followed the light down. “This one goes straight down into the well.”
“What’s ‘the well’?” Grant asked.
“It’s the deepest borehole we’ve made to date,” Othello replied as he passed the light across the remaining pieces of support and digging equipment. There was no sign of any activity. “What are you thinking?”
“Well,” Grant said, “we don’t know much. There hasn’t been a direct attack like this that I’ve been a part of. I’m thinking there are more down there and these guys up here were guarding them. You still don’t know what they could be after?”
Othello shook his head. “Nope,�
� he said, wracking his brain as to a motive. He had been through all the mines and so far they hadn’t seen anything more than red stone. “It’s the deepest dig on Mars. Geographically isolated; a few klicks from the sea to the east.”
Grant looked over. “The sea? Would you speak English?”
“It’s more of a dry basin but the colonists called it the sea. All of the mountains drop off in sharp cliffs at the edge, and then there’s nothing at all. It’s a barren wasteland.” He stopped as a small group of soldiers jogged in through the base airlock. “Reinforcements are here.”
Grant looked back. “Good,” he stated simply and waved them over. When they got close enough, he gave them his orders.
“The aliens have retreated deeper into the dig. We need to fast rope down after them.”
Scott intently to the exchange while he sat on the edge of the barrier. His hands were still shaking but he tried to catch Grant’s words. The group of soldiers who showed up looked rested but at the same time exhausted as if they had already seen their share of action. Several had burns and scrapes. Two had blasts indicative of bullet impacts. Still, it’s better than the alternative, Scott thought and tapped his chest plate. He hoped if the time came, he would fare half as well.
The miner waved the rest of the group over, so Scott got to his feet and joined the briefing.
“…I’ll go down first and stop at the landing,” Grant announced and gestured to his new squad. “Follow me down and we’ll secure the floor.” He turned to the colonists next. “If you’re up to it, come down after us. Othello, I could use your expertise.”
The miner nodded. “You’ve got it.”
“The rest of you: down the rope or go straight back to the concourse; it’s up to you.” Grant waited no longer and grabbed for the rope, sliding down into the darkness.
The helmet had some light enhancements built in that bathed the mine in a dim green glow for increased contrast. Grant kept sliding down without seeing the ground for about eight seconds. As it came into view, he tightened his grasp, slowed the drop and landed lightly on both feet.
Instinctively, his hands went for his rifle, and he did a quick three hundred and sixty degree scan of his surroundings while stepping out from the rope. The other soldiers came down more forcefully but they were sharp enough to check their surroundings as well.
There were no traps or charges that he could see around his feet, so Grant looked farther out. There were a few tracked drills parked to the side, along with a row of racks along the wall filled with smaller tools. The ramp they had started on wrapped around at least a dozen more times from where he jumped. It must have taken a thousand trips up to move all the stone, he thought.
In any case, there was no sign of movement. The ground was clear rock; no dust or footprints to be seen. All of the deeper holes had fencing erected around them for safety and the closest had the one rope drop right down through. At a glance, he saw four square tunnels, three meters to a side and carved into the rock maybe thirty degrees off from each other. Lord knew where the aliens had gone.
Grant dropped to a knee and kept watch while the last of the soldiers slid down. The squad sergeant crept up beside him. “Where do you want us going next?”
“Wait for the miner. He’ll know what’s down the passages and we’ll go from there.” Grant paused and heard the solid crunch of Othello’s significant mass hitting the ground. “Up here,” he ordered. “Where are we going next?”
Othello knew without looking. “Take the north passage. I’ve been thinking about it. It’s the longest and goes all the way to the mountains; the others on this landing are dead ends.”
Grant pointed his way. “You’re coming with me,” he said, turning to the sergeant again. “Give me four soldiers. We’ll check the mine. The rest of you hold this position. We’ll call for you if we need you.”
On the far side of the formation, Scott dropped down on the rope just in time to see a group circle up and maneuver to one of the mine shafts. No one motioned for him so he stayed in place beside the remaining forces. He waited for the now familiar crack of gunfire and pointed his rifle into the darkness like the rest.
The passage maxed out at a twenty percent grade as Grant’s squad traveled deeper underground. They operated without lights to avoid being seen but Othello’s speed made the soldier question the decision. The last thing they needed to do was step off a cliff or end up in another trap.
There was still no sign of the aliens; no footprints or equipment had been left anywhere. The miner quietly regretted their sterile work conditions and efforts to keep the place clean.
Othello stopped them about four klicks in. “There’s going to be an opening around the next turn. We’ve got a twenty meter wide landing and two more shafts that branch off.
“I’ll go in first and make sure I don’t see anything. Stay back at the wall,” Grant declared and crept away along the inner wall, his weapon up and planted to his shoulder. At the end of the turn, he saw the two passages on the far side. The soldier stared intently through the visor in his mask, trying to discern anything that looked like a barricade, rifle barrel, head, anything. He checked again with each step and slowly crossed the room.
With only another meter to go to the end, he radioed back: “We’re clear. Move up.”
Othello approached and came close enough to watch him take one more step and feel the blast as the ground exploded beneath the soldier’s feet. The shockwave knocked the entire team to the ground and spit dust and rock in every direction.
Adrenaline surged and Othello struggled to pull himself together. He heard the muffled groans of the men around him through his ringing ears. “Mines! Check around you!” he shouted and watched the smoke clear the blast site.
To his surprise, the clearing smoke didn’t leave a crater filled with bits of crazy soldier. Instead, almost half the floor had given way and had been swallowed by a massive hole. The soldier closest to him got to his feet. “Where’s that go?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” Othello answered and crawled to the edge. “We haven’t done any digging like this on this end of the site.” He peered over into darkness. The hole was rough-carved and spiraled about until he lost track. There was no sign of the soldier or his effects. “Grant!” he said into the radio before shouting in the air. “Can you hear me!?!”
21
In the moment of impact, Grant’s mind went blank. He decoupled from space and time while his brain decided what had occurred and how he could recover. Flashes of light appeared before him and inserted reminders of his life. He recalled being an injured soldier on an operating table with a massive needle hovering above his chest. Then flag draped coffins on the flight deck of a ship. And her smiling face; Allison, she was always with him. Waiting...
And it was over. Grant heard the voice come through on the communication channel on his radio, but he didn’t have the air to devote to a response. A twenty second fall getting tossed off rock faces followed by a hard landing took his breath away. Forcing his lungs, he pulled in a breath and coughed out blood.
“I’m here,” he coarsely replied. “Hold on.”
He continued hacking, trying to breathe without immense pain and stay on the right side of consciousness. He was back in reality.
It could have been an easy solution: wait for the medics to winch him out and sit on the side for the rest of the engagement. Grant ran through his options. Get up or die in an effing cave on Mars. No, he wouldn’t let it end that way and rolled over onto his knees. His helmet was quick to reset itself and his rifle felt to be solid and functioning; nothing more than a few more scrapes and bruises.
The helmet’s processor again applied light amplification and for the first time Grant got a look at his surroundings. The cave around him appeared to be a long, low, natural void, almost like a carved-out vein of coal.
“This looks like either a natural cave or an abandoned quarry. Your drills wouldn’t fit through here. Are you sure your
guys haven’t done any exploration this way?”
Othello remained on his knees, peering into darkness to spot any sign of his teammate. “Negative. There’s been no digging in this direction. Are you okay? That blast looked like it went off right under your feet.”
“Not quite,” Grant answered. “It detonated about a meter ahead of me.”
The veteran soldier ran through scenarios in his mind. They could have planted the trap on purpose for him, but it would have been an awful coincidence. Equally remarkable would be them blowing it over the hole at just the wrong time. “Can you get around the hole?”
“No way,” Othello reported as he checked both sides. The blast had taken out a meter or two of thick pieces of rock which fed into what looked like a narrow crevice. The miners should have seen that before they even started drilling. They could have caused a collapse. “It’s blown out wall to wall. How can we get you up?”
“Don’t worry about that yet,” Grant said. “I want to take a look around here.”
He took a step forward and his comm line filled with static. He stepped back. “I’m going to lose radio contact. We know they passed through the shaft you’re in now. If you can get across the hole, do it. Otherwise, sit tight and keep up your guard.” Pausing briefly, Grant looked about and saw no sign of life. “I don’t see footprints. I think they planted it from your tunnel. Be careful.”
Othello turned to the nearest soldier, “Tell the sergeant what’s up. We’re staying here for the moment.” He commanded. The miner was relieved in a way that Grant had survived the landing. He had no doubt the explosion alone could have killed any one of them, but to take a fall through the floor was nothing short of a miracle.
The radio went silent and Othello felt more alone standing beside the other men than he did when he was still sitting back in his room. The weight of the day dropped on him as his near constant rush of adrenaline began to fade. What in the hell was he doing? He wasn’t a trained soldier. How was he the one fighting?
MissionSRX: Ephemeral Solace Page 12