by Greig Beck
The HAWCs and their Israeli companions leapt onto the slowing train just outside of Shiraz. The dilapidated diesel locomotive was returning to northern Iran with oil refinery equipment and supplies for one of the new drill platforms at Babol on the Caspian Sea. There were no passengers and the train was unguarded, so the HAWCs found it easy to enter the packed cargo carriage without being detected. From time to time they would open the door a crack for fresh air and to check their surroundings, but that was all – the bone-chilling wind that blew in off the mountains discouraged any sightseeing. Sam managed to track their progress on his GPS unit and called out their speed and position every few hours.
Even in the bitter cold of the unheated car, they rested. Until they reached Kashan, the fate of their mission rested with the train driver and good luck. Alex knew that if the bodies of the Takavaran weren’t discovered at Persepolis, they still held the element of surprise. From what they’d seen so far, they’d need it.
In the corner of the carriage, a tiny mouse scurried up to a crate and started to gnaw at the wood. In no time it had opened a hole the size of a fingertip and squeezed through, returning a few seconds later with what looked like a coffee bean. Alex smiled. Just a tiny opening – that’s all we’ll need too, he thought.
Adira woke from a light doze and half-opened her eyes. She sat with her back against a crate and her arms folded on bent knees; she lifted her head slightly to rest her chin on the arch made by her arms. Dawn light was beginning to squeeze through cracks in the carriage walls and she could make out the form of Alex Hunter sitting opposite her, his large frame striped with the morning’s early glow. She smiled as she watched him try to feed a little grey mouse something he had found on the floor. She went to look away, but found her eyes kept being drawn back to the man – so she gave up and studied him.
He was handsome, but she knew plenty of good-looking men. He was dangerous, but also honourable – and right now he just looked so… normal. It was impossible to think that he was part of some secret American experiment. But she had seen him do things that were not possible. What was the Arcadian? What would happen to Alex Hunter if she betrayed him to General Shavit, to the Mossad hierarchy?
She took a breath, then exhaled quietly through her nose. Why this one? she thought, and smiled again as she saw him whisper something to the small creature at his feet.
Alex felt a bead of perspiration run down the side of his face. As the sun climbed higher, and the Zagros Mountains fell far behind, the temperature had risen rapidly in the carriage. What had been a freezing wooden box as they passed through the mountains had quickly becoming a foul-smelling roaster.
The HAWCs were relieved when Sam called their position as being just ten miles out from Kashan. Rocky pulled open the door and filled their carriage with sweet-smelling, dry desert air. Adira leaned out of the car, looking up and down the track, and called for them to get ready. The train slowed from its top speed of around sixty miles per hour down to thirty to negotiate a bend – ‘Jump!’ Adira yelled. One by one, like parachutists leaving a plane, they leapt and rolled into the hard-packed soil. At twenty miles per hour, there were no comfortable landings.
Sam took charge of Zach, forcing the young man to roll with him so he didn’t break any bones on the landing. They all stayed low to the ground until the train was several miles away, then got to their feet. In the distance, they could see the train heading for a small city nestled among clumped wild date palms and tall trees – a small haven of green in the dry sepia and brown of the desert.
‘Kashan is one of the small oasis cities,’ Adira said. ‘A peaceful place of gardens and poets, and we have good people there.’ She turned away from the verdant town setting and nodded west. ‘That’s where we need to go. About sixty miles to Arak – ten to twelve hours on foot.’
Alex surveyed their position and the parched land to the west. There was no road, no path. It was just after 1100 hours and the day was cloudless and dry. Thankfully, the temperature was fairly mild for around here – only one hundred degrees. A walk in the park, he thought.
‘We’ll do it in eight. Let’s go.’ He led them out in a trot.
*
They had been moving fast for nearly five hours when Alex called a rest break. They would stop for forty minutes – ten minutes for food and then fifteen minutes of rest each – one team on, one team off. Hex, Irish, Rocky and Adira rested first, then Alex, Sam and Zach. Alex saw Zach pass out instantly, but he let the young scientist sleep; he couldn’t imagine what Zach’s body must feel like after all the exertion. A few miles back he had seen Adira help him with his pack – he would allow it this time only. Even Alex’s supercharged body needed to repair itself. He ate some dried beef and then slept. For fifteen minutes the world went away.
His body rested, but his mind worked – dark memories slithering up from its depths. Beneath his eyelids his eyes moved back and forth, searching, hunting, trying to see in the murky darkness of a cave. The creature had him again, its tentacle was wrapping around his body, its curved, razor-sharp talons were embedding themselves into his back and neck.
Alex woke with a roar that caused all the HAWCs to draw their weapons and crouch in defensive positions. Adira had both her Baraks drawn and aimed towards Alex. The snake fell from his neck and started to slide away into the desert.
Adira leapt at it and put her boot on its neck, then reached down to pick it up. ‘Yaarsh… did it bite you? This is a saw-scaled viper – deadly.’
Alex had taken his helmet off to rest and also unzipped the collar of his suit. He reached up and felt his neck – his hand came away spotted with blood. Perhaps the pulsing of an artery had attracted the snake, or maybe it was just pissed off in the heat. Alex felt his head start to throb with a deep ache that made his eyes hurt.
‘Yeah, it got me,’ he said. ‘What type of venom?’
Sam kneeled beside Alex, opening his upper eyelid to peer at the white around the pupil.
Adira drew one of her knives and pressed the back of the snake’s head, forcing its mouth open. She used the knife to bring out its fangs and pushed upwards. Venom should have squirted from the extended fangs. Nothing came.
‘Shishza! It’s dry,’ she said. ‘You must have got a full dose. This is one of the Middle East’s deadliest snakes – proteolytic venom, haemotoxic; painful and deadly. If the bite was on a limb, rapid amputation would be recommended. You need antivenene and about several pints of blood in a field transfusion.’ She jammed her blade roughly back into its sheath and squeezed the snake’s neck in her fist.
Alex pressed his thumbs into his eyelids and shook his head. ‘A week on the beach would be nice too. Don’t worry, I think I missed the full dose. I’ll be okay, but I’ll need to rest up a bit. Hex, you take your team out immediately and we’ll catch up on the way. You know what to do.’
Hex nodded. There would be no questioning the decision – the boss’s orders were always followed. Rocky and Irish kitted up and prepared to leave.
Adira looked at the snake and said something in Hebrew. She changed her grip, twirled the short body once around her head and then used the momentum to flick it bullwhip-style. The viper’s head exploded off its body in a spray of scales and blood, leaving Adira holding a writhing pipe of snake flesh, which she flung out into the desert.
She looked down at Alex almost angrily and said, ‘Lehitra’ ot, Alex Hunter. I hope I will see you again.’ She turned away, her fists balled, still muttering to herself.
Alex knew they didn’t have any antivenene, and they certainly didn’t have the time or equipment for even the roughest field transfusion. He also knew he had received a full dose of the poison – he could feel it in his system. He had to trust his body to combat the venom by itself, but for that he needed to sleep.
He spoke to Sam quietly. ‘You need to knock me out for two hours while I rest. I’ll be okay – you know that, Uncle.’
Sam nodded and knelt down beside him, turning Alex’s
head to look at the small wounds on his neck. ‘Two hours, huh? Sixty milligrams of benzodiazepine should do it. Anticonvulsant and muscle relaxant. I can put you out for around that long – the rest is up to you. But, ah, I heard Ms Senesh – she did say amputation was an option. Might be quicker – it is only your head we’re talking about, after all.’
Alex chuckled. ‘Just keep an eye out for more snakes, will you, or next time I’ll make you suck the poison out.’
Sam gave Alex the sedative, and he lay down with his head and shoulders in the shade of a small spiky bush. He sucked in an enormous breath and closed his eyes. In a minute he was breathing deeply.
Sam noticed that the veins around the snake bite on Alex’s neck bulged like fat worms fighting under his skin, and the bite itself was weeping clear liquid. There’s a war going on in there, he thought. Sam was one of the few people in the world who knew what the Arcadian was capable of. He had seen Alex perform feats that had left elite soldiers gaping. For most, the Arcadian was a Special Forces myth, but to a few – a handful of scientists, the most senior brass in USSTRATCOM, the Hammer and Sam – he was a miracle.
Sam caught up with Adira as she was heading out with Hex’s team. ‘Ms Senesh – that snake… What’s Captain Hunter in for?’
Adira looked over at Alex’s sleeping form. ‘Without treatment
… if he’s lucky, some swelling, pain, maybe blindness and some loss of motor functions. Then he’ll probably go into a coma and die. If he’s unlucky, he’ll bleed out internally and die in great agony. This type of viper has killed many of our soldiers on desert missions; they’re active day and night, aggressive and deadly. Captain Hunter’s strong, but I don’t think you’ll be catching up with us anytime soon, Sam Reid. I can get him to Tel Aviv in a day – just say the word.’
Sam shook his head slowly. Adira narrowed her eyes and shrugged. ‘Behatzlacha, Sam Reid.’ She looked once again at Alex. ‘Was… is he the Arcadian?’
This time it was Sam’s turn to shrug. ‘Good luck yourself.’
Adira nodded and turned away, then paused as the response to her Hebrew comment registered with her. She gave Sam a fleeting smile, then joined Hex and the Red team.
Sam watched her go, then called Zachariah over. ‘Keep an eye on him – I’m going to have a quick look around. Make sure nothing else bites, stings or pecks him while he’s out!’
Zach looked down at the unconscious HAWC leader and placed his hand just above his forehead. Sam knew Zach didn’t need to touch Alex’s skin to feel that he was on fire. Alex’s body temperature always ran a few degrees hotter than any normal man’s – it was his furnace-like metabolism operating at full throttle all the time. Now, with the deadly toxin in his system, he was burning up.
Sam could see Alex’s eyes flicking back and forth under his lids as his body fought the poison. He remembered Adira’s Hebrew word for luck: ‘behatzlacha’. Yes, he’ll need it, Sam thought.
Alex had loosened his grip on the rope for only a second and had flown off the swing to land face first in the loosely packed earth. His head hurt and his mouth was full of dirt. He looked up at his father, trying to decide whether or not to cry.
Jim Hunter smiled and brushed the earth from Alex’s forehead and cheeks. ‘You’re not hurt, you’re strong,’ he said.
Alex nodded and reached out to touch the scar on his father’s left brow. ‘Did that hurt, Daddy?’ he asked, his stubby little finger tracing the shiny, pink crescent.
‘Yes, but only for a second. The trick is to be stronger than the pain. It always goes away, and then you’re left with a small scar and a big smile.’
‘I’m stronger than the pain,’ Alex repeated, deciding not to cry after all.
His father hugged him and he felt the strong hands on his back. But his father wouldn’t let go and the fingers were starting to dig in. Alex tried to push away, but the grip became impossibly tight
… and sticky now, congealing all around him.
Alex lifted his head and saw that he was a man again, not the little boy of a moment ago, and his father had changed… it was no longer his father holding him but the tentacle of a creature he had last battled with under the Antarctic’s ice.
He felt the dagger-like tusks enter his chest, his back and sides. His whole body was being crushed and pierced. His strength was failing him, falling away like dry leaves. The pain was unbearable. You’re not stronger than the pain; you never were. Pain always wins… it always wins. The words repeated over and over in his head.
Alex opened his mouth to scream as he felt the bones crumble beneath his skin. His flesh was peeling away and he was falling. He knew that when he hit the bottom he would die. Blackness slammed shut on him like the lid of a coffin.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The sun was sinking towards the Markazi Mountains and the temperature had dropped to a pleasant seventy degrees. Zach was leaning up against a warm rock, dozing. He held a slim water canteen loosely in his hand, and a long string of dribble created a glistening river from his slightly open mouth and down his shoulder. His glasses had slid to the end of his nose.
A tall shadow fell across him and a hand grasped his shoulder.
‘Whaa-?’ Zach opened his eyes; then had to blink twice and push his glasses back up before he could speak. ‘Yoish! You’re alive… I mean awake.’
‘You’re losing water; cap your canteen,’ Alex said.
Zach blinked once more and looked up at the HAWC captain. The man’s hair was damp from perspiration, the snakebite wound was now just a couple of small pink marks on his neck, already healing over. ‘Uh, how do you feel?’ Zach asked.
Alex ran his hand through his hair. ‘Like I’m hungover and thirsty as hell. What’s our status?’
‘Ahh…’ Zach looked around, not exactly sure what to tell him.
‘I’ll take that one,’ Sam said, walking up behind Zach and handing Alex a water canteen. While Alex drank, Sam looked at the wound on his neck and nodded. ‘Looking good.’
Zach stood to take a closer look at the near-healed wound. ‘So the snake didn’t inject you with all its venom, after all?’
Alex turned away and said over his shoulder, ‘I was lucky this time. Sam?’
Zach could have sworn Sam was wearing the hint of a smile as he began his report.
Hex’s team had made good progress to the Arak Jamshid II facility – they were over two hours ahead and expected to rendezvous with Mossad agents for a briefing before entering the city. They’d encountered no Takavaran, nor had there been any signs of pursuit.
Alex nodded. ‘Good. I need something to eat, then we go. Two minutes – be ready, gentlemen.’
*
Adira held the HAWC monoscope to her eye and looked into the high areas of the Markazi Mountains. The scope was a matt black tube with a rubber cap on the end for fitting snugly over the eye. It sat in the fist comfortably and its image enhancers magnified thirty times with an infinite range. She pulled the device away from her face and looked at it admiringly. Better than anything back home – think I’ll keep it.
She replaced the scope in its pouch and breathed in the desert air. She felt strangely flat and shook her head at a creeping thought: He’s probably already dead by now. It was perhaps a good thing. Alex Hunter was becoming a distraction from her primary mission. And if he was the secret Arcadian, or part of that project, she now felt free to give a full briefing about him when she returned. Yes, his death was probably a good thing.
She took another breath; the hollowness in her stomach was still there… and maybe something else. ‘Achhh, stop haunting me, Alex Hunter,’ she said softly as she looked towards the city of Arak.
Ice-capped peaks to the west framed the ancient settlement; everywhere else it was surrounded by vast arid plains that looked barely hospitable. Adira knew the city had a large lake at its edge. This was the Nemisham Lake – beautiful but its inviting waters were a cauldron of toxic chemicals that steamed with skin-stripping acids. Li
ke the country itself, she thought, alluring and dangerous in equal measures.
A Mossad agent appeared out of the desert like a wraith, spoke in hurried Hebrew to her, then vanished just as quickly in the wavering heat haze. This was what Adira had been waiting for. She stood looking at Arak for a further moment, then returned to the HAWCs.
‘The laboratory is hidden on the outskirts of the city, in a labyrinth of ancient caves,’ she told them. ‘They’ve been posing as archaeologists carrying out significant restoration work on the Sassanid Dynasty statues deep inside the caves. They’ve been digging for years; there’s no telling how deep they are. We can’t take them head on or covertly. The place is heavily fortified and guarded by the regular Iranian Army. Worse, my men tell me there are many squads of Takavaran Zolfaghar now in and around the facility.’
Irish blew air through his lips in disdain. ‘Yeah, those guys were real tough,’ he sneered.
Adira tried to ignore him but there was something about the man’s attitude that made her want to lash out. ‘I think you were lucky Hex was back there for you, Lieutenant O’Riordan, or you would be just another dead animal drying in the desert.’
‘Fuck you,’ Irish spat.
Adira smiled and went on. ‘There may be another option – another way into the Jamshid II facility that is unknown to the Takavaran. There is a cave opening high within the Markazi Mountains; the locals avoid it because they believe it is filled with demons. My people believe it’s not guarded so we may be able to use it to break into the facility.’
‘May be able to? Possibly unguarded? That’s all we got to go with?’ Irish said scornfully. ‘We don’t have a lotta time to invest in maybes right now. Pretty soon they’re gonna know we’re here. We get our backs to the wall in a freakin’ cave and we’re dead meat.’