Primeval egt-5

by David L. Golemon

  "From the signal strength, Mr. Sagli, I would say what we seek is but one mile that way," the small Russian tech said as he held his hands cupped around the LED-lighted gauge to stop the glare of the setting sun.

  Sagli smiled and then looked at Deonovich. He then turned and looked at the small plateau rising ahead of them. He knew that the readings would place their goal at the base of the small climb or at its summit. In either case, it was going to be theirs.

  "Now, the other detectors. What is their reading?"

  Another of the field technicians walked up, almost anxious to deliver the news his employer wanted the most.

  "The M-224 detectors are picking up elevated levels, far more than can be accounted for naturally. We suspect that it is near the other denser metals we are detecting."

  Sagli felt his knees bend, wanting to fold in on themselves as he heard the greatly anticipated news indicating that their partner had been right all along and they now had the justification for leaving behind albeit a dangerous world, but a rich and fulfilling one. The item they wanted was near, and they would have it in the next few hours.

  Deonovich started organizing ten of his best men to start the trek into the bush, he felt they had wasted enough time in setting up a camp that they might never have used if they had gone straight to setting up Sagli's expensive equipment.

  "Gregori, we must hold our place here. Our discovery has waited a very long time, so it can wait a while longer; we have instructions we must follow."

  Deonovich stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face his partner. The anger was clearly shown on his features. "It is right there; we can retrieve it and still be following orders. He can examine our find at his leisure."

  "That is not following instructions, my friend, because there is a reason for waiting. Someone is coming who can verify our find; until that man arrives, she is not to be touched."

  Deonovich turned away from Sagli and saw one of the pinpoints of his continuing ire — Lynn. He raised a hand and slapped her onto the ground and was about to bring his tree trunk of a leg back to kick her, when suddenly Lynn had had enough. She kicked out with her own booted foot and struck the large Russian directly to the side of the knee. Deonovich grunted in pain and went to his back, immediately reaching for his throbbing leg. Lynn pounced as if she were part cat, landing on his chest, and then brought up a stick she had found on the ground and took it straight to the side of the Russian's throat.

  Sagli watched from a distance and a smile stretched across his face. He saw the men Deonovich had been organizing to go into the tree line start forward to take the angry American off their boss, but he held up a hand, indicating he wanted to see how this played out.

  Lynn placed pressure on the small stick and held it in place just over the pulsing throb of the Russians jugular vein. She pressed even harder when he made a move to try and dislodge her. With black hair hanging in her face, and her cheekbone throbbing where she had been struck, Lynn Simpson was at a point where she didn't care what the outcome would be, but knew she would make sure this bastard never touched her again.

  "That is the last time you'll take out your inadequacies on me. If you ever raise a hand or one of those fucking hooves to me again, I swear to God the last thing you will ever see is me punching a hole in your throat." For emphasis, Lynn pressed the dull point of the stick into the thin layers of skin at Deonovich's throat until she had a nice flow of blood.

  "Someone kill this goddamn bitch!" Deonovich hissed as he froze under the onslaught of the smaller woman and her stick.

  Without removing the pressure she was exerting on the stick, and without moving her face from the angry eyes of Deonovich, Lynn flicked her own green eyes over to where the smiling Sagli still held his commandos at bay with a raised hand. Sagli just tilted his head, as if he were awaiting Lynn's decision.

  Lynn angrily poked the stick one more time and at the same moment removed her small amount of weight from Deonovich. The man grabbed for his neck and rose as if shot from a cannon. He started reaching for his holstered weapon.

  "No. That will not do, old friend. Too noisy and far too premature. We still need her."

  Deonovich still went as far as to pull the weapon. Lynn braced for the bullet that was surely coming her way, still holding the stick as if it were a magic talisman that would ward off the giant ogre. As Deonovich turned and started to raise the weapon, the sound hit them with a force of a hundred loudspeakers.

  Sagli turned, forgetting all about the humorous confrontation he was witnessing. The other men bent low as if they had been ambushed for real, other than just audibly assaulted.

  The roar of an animal reverberated against the tree line as far away as the southern shore of the river. The sound bounced back and sounded as if the entire camp was surrounded by a herd of whatever it was that made that horrendous sound. The animal cry was unlike any of the men from Russia had ever heard before. Some of the Spetsnaz hailed from the cold and hearty region of the Urals and it seemed to affect these men the most. Unable to think clearly with the continuing echo of the cry coming from the plateau to the north, the technicians, although armed with handguns, backed away from where they had been setting up tripods with motorized metal detectors on them. They watched the bright sunlit woods ahead of them, but still backed away nonetheless.

  "What in God's name is that?" Sagli asked as he turned away from the trees. His eyes fell on Lynn, who was just standing there stiff, just watching the sun-dappled tress before them, her antagonist Deonovich no longer a concern. The small stick she used as a weapon slowly slid from her fingers. The look in her eyes told Sagli she had been taken as far off guard by the roar as they had been.

  The men had gone silent with every set of eyes turned toward the tree line. Deonovich forgot all about the assault on his neck and used hand gestures to get his commando team to move. He gestured right and left and then used both hands to point straight ahead, the blood still dripping from his fingers. The Spetsnaz immediately broke into two-man teams and entered the woods at a trot. Deonovich clearly understood at that moment the reason for restraint before entering an area that they basically knew nothing about.

  Sagli broke the spell by walking over and taking the American woman by the arm and pushing her toward her small tent.

  "From here on out, you are to remain inside. You have now become far more important than you would ever believe."

  Lynn was shoved ahead of the Russian and she decided that she had no desire to be outside with the sun falling lower and lower in the sky.

  Sagli turned to Deonovich.

  "I should have let that woman cut your throat. You are never to question my authority again or threaten the American. You could allow this whole operation to fail if you continue your unthinking ways. It will not be tolerated by me, or by our partner, I assure you. Is that clearly understood?"

  Deonovich holstered his weapon, but made no move to voice an answer. Sagli decided not to push the larger man at this time because he had sustained enough embarrassment delivered by the very much smaller woman.

  "Now, we will press into the woods a hundred yards before dark, no farther. We cannot afford to stumble upon our quest in the twilight as that could be fatal. Do you understand?"

  Deonovich tuned once more to face his old friend. This time he nodded once and turned to join his men on the perimeter of the camp with the camps doctor walking beside him, trying in vain to place a bandage on his neck.

  "Gregori?" Sagli said, looking down at his feet.

  Deonovich stopped walking, slapping the hands of the doctor away, and then he turned to look back. Sagli finally looked up at him.

  "You are originally from the Urals, as are some of the men. Have you ever heard anything like that before — that animal cry?"

  Deonovich looked around him slowly. He knew Sagli was never more than three miles away from Moscow growing up as a child, so he had never before heard the sounds that emanate from the forests. The way they can pl
ay tricks on your brain, the direction could be totally opposite of where you thought the roar came from, or the sound itself could have been any number of animals. Instead of saying this, he decided to let Sagli stew in his own confidence of being master of his domain and a slave to his false bravery.

  "No, comrade, I have never heard such an animal cry before. It was if a thousand lions roared at the same moment."

  As Sagli watched Deonovich turn and walk away, hiding his knowing smile, he turned and watched the sway at the top of the large pine trees as the wind sprang up. The blow was coming from the north and it brought a sour, primitive smell with it; but of the horrific sound, they heard no more.

  * * *

  "Holly shit, what in the hell was that?" Will Mendenhall asked as he held the cold MRE dinner out to a stunned and staring Charlie Ellenshaw. The beef stew was cold and since a moment before when the sound of the animal reached them across the river, was much anticipated by the cryptozoologist.

  Charlie finally lowered his eyes from the trees surrounding their once-again cold camp. He swallowed and turned and looked at the offered freeze-dried ration as if it were a cow patty being held out by Mendenhall, who finally lowered the Meals-Ready-to-Eat package, and then looked into Ellenshaw's eyes.

  "I assure you, Lieutenant, I never really witnessed the animal that lives in these woods, so that noise was as mysterious to me as you. As much as my natural inquisitiveness compels me to investigate, my common sense says to wait until a fresh sun has risen."

  "Doc, do you know what could have possibly made that sound?" Everett asked as he stepped back into the small clearing they were calling camp for the evening with Farbeaux in tow.

  Ellenshaw was about to answer, when Jack and Punchy Alexander entered the clearing from the opposite direction as Everett.

  "Okay, we need to talk," Jack said as he took the cold meal from Will's hand and started eating.

  "I would think we would talk about what made that cry across the river, Colonel," Farbeaux said as he knelt and rummaged through the small box of MREs looking for something palatable.

  Jack tossed the bag of cold stew over to Mendenhall, who caught it on the fly, but not before spilling some of it on his green plaid hunting shirt. He shook off some of it by shaking his hand, and then looked at the colonel who acted as though he didn't even notice what he had done.

  "That's what the doc is along for; I'm sure he'll come up with something to put in his report," Jack said, watching the others, his eyes finally falling on Punchy Alexander and then moving on. "You will all be staying on this side of the river tonight." Jack held up his hand as Will and Everett started to protest. "At ease. This is my thing, my sister, my mission."

  "And if you fail to bring her back?" Everett said as he stepped toward Jack, "We're supposed to pull up stakes and go home?"

  Collins smiled. "No, I want you to kill every one of the sons-a-bitches — but not until I and my sister are dead. After that, you do what you want. Personally, I would avenge your colonel's death."

  Everett shook his head and Mendenhall looked away.

  "I can't accept that, Jack. I was there when your sister was taken by these bastards and I want in on going after her. I've come too far for you to take that from me," Punchy said, finally speaking up. "Besides, this is all happening on Canadian soil. It's my bailiwick."

  Jack eyed the large Canadian without saying anything. He then tossed Everett a small chunk of something.

  "What do you make of that, Captain?" he asked.

  Carl caught the lightweight material in his large hand. It was crumpled and looked as if it had sat in the sun for years. The aluminum was once painted black, faded now to a dark gray.

  "Could be anything," he said.

  "May I?" Farbeaux asked standing with his MRE in his hand. He caught the piece of metal when Everett tossed it.

  "Aircraft aluminum," Henri said as he looked it over. "I found several more pieces myself; it's not gold, and so I didn't care to report it."

  Jack watched Farbeaux and saw that he didn't meet his eyes, which meant in Collins's opinion the man was lying, but ignoring it for the moment, nodded his head and then looked at his watch. "Punchy, in answer to your request — denied, you'll stay on this side of the river with my people."

  Alexander didn't say anything, he just shook his head.

  "May I presume, since I am not under your command, I may accompany you in the pursuit of my payment?" Farbeaux asked as he opened his plastic MRE and poured a small amount of water inside to mesh the dehydrated food into the mashed conglomerate that it was.

  "If you attempt to come across that river before I return with my sister, Colonel, Mr. Everett will shoot you in your head until you are convinced to stay put."

  Farbeaux looked at Carl as he mashed the contents of the MRE together as Everett just nodded his head as if to say Jack was not lying.

  "I'm sure that would break the captain's heart," Henri said, finally opening his meal.

  * * *

  The sun had about fifteen minutes until it disappeared over the western edge of the plateau above them. Sagli was pleased so far with the artifacts they were finding. Small pieces of metal that his non-Spetsnaz men had yet to notice were gathered and placed inside of a pack so the rest of his men couldn't see. As most of the trusted commandos stood guard around the perimeter of their search area, Deonovich kept regaling the mercenaries from the regular army about the tales of gold and diamonds to be found. The Spetsnaz pretended not to listen, even though they would prefer the stories of gold over what they knew to be the real truth. To Sagli, none of it mattered as he looked through the direction finder at the next signal that the detector had picked up.

  "We keep picking up these trace amounts of aluminum and steel, nothing of a major volume. Have you thought that maybe the trace amounts of uranium we are picking up is just residual, and that what we are looking for may not be intact?" the radiological technician said as he looked at the LED readout as Sagli looked through the directional scope.

  "My concerns are that you keep within your parameters of expertise. Do not go into territory that is none of your business." He finally looked up at the tech. "You are being paid handsomely either way." He watched the man until he returned to his clipboard. Satisfied, he returned his right eye to the scope. As he refocused the lens that shot a laser across the hundred yards ahead of him, he caught what looked like a shadow through the scope mounted above the laser. The darkness was large and seemed to disappear into the shade of the giant trees. "What?" he said as he tried to find the strange shadow once more.

  As Sagli was searching for his phantom shadow, a Spetsnaz standing near a technician's small field table looked up just as a warning beep was heard. He watched the technician move the laser he controlled left, and then right.

  "What is it?" the former Spetsnaz asked.

  "I don't know; our passive motion detectors have picked up movement, about a thousand yards ahead."

  "Where exactly?" the commando asked as he waved Deonovich over.

  "I'm not sure — everywhere I think," the technician said anxiously.

  "What do you have?" Deonovich asked.

  "Possible movement ahead of us, we don't have an intruder count yet."

  "Silence that weapon and take a man forward, only a hundred yards, take our little friend here with you," Deonovich said, slapping the tech on the shoulder and tossing a silencer to the Spetsnaz.

  The experienced soldier smiled as a look of apprehension came across the tech's face. He removed his handgun from a shoulder holster and then started screwing the silencer onto it. The man next to him did the same, and then the first man reached out and took the tech by the arm and made him rise from the small field desk.

  "Gather your sensors and let's go."

  The movement caught the attention of Sagli who had failed to see the shadow again. He nodded his head at Deonovich in approval of his action. Once he saw the three men walk forward of their line, he leaned back
to the scope. After all, if they ran into something, it would give them far more knowledge than they had at that moment.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, the technician had not recorded the same motion as he did earlier. The trees ahead were still and the area totally silent as he swept the area with his handheld detector. He shook his head at the nearest man. The sun was now gone and twilight had set in.

  Just as the lead Spetsnaz was going to motion them back to the rest of the group, he caught wind of something on the breeze. It was a pungent odor, an earthy smell that came from all around them. Then he strained his eyes as he caught sight of a large tree ahead of them. He had sensed it more than actually seeing movement. He raised a hand and caught the attention of the other commando on the far side of the technician. He waved him forward. As he approached the large pine, the shadow broke free of its cover. It moved so fast that the Russian couldn't react. He brought the automatic up and shot three times, but he knew his silenced bullets struck nothing but the tree and the air. The shadow shot back into the trees in a frenzy of dark motion.

  The commando eased forward and then leaned against the same tree where he had seen the strange shadow. He saw a bullet hole where one of his rounds had struck, and then he looked down. His eyes widened when he saw the soft sand around the base of the giant tree. The footprint was larger than two of his feet, in width and length. He kept the pistol's aim outward as he kneeled down to examine the impression. The toes were distinct and the heel had been planted hard enough to leave a depression eight inches deep in the soft earth and had actually crushed one of the thick, exposed roots of the giant pine tree. He looked up in more wonder than fear. Whatever had made the print had to weigh in access of a five hundred kilos. He straightened, and then he saw a darker area on the tree where he had seen the shadow. He touched a finger to the spot and it came away with rich, copper-smelling blood. The soldier wiped the redness onto his pants and then motioned the others back toward the camp. His weapon never wavered from the area to their rear as they moved south toward the very welcoming sounds of men.