A fog had settled in, blanketing the lowest furrows of the jungle in mist. Did it also presage the coming dawn? The jungle foliage began to thin, and the terrain opened up. The roaring of the river became much more pronounced, and Alex was sure the trail led to the water. Ahead, Clyde stopped again, turned back to look at Alex, and waited.
Alex crept up next to the animal and understood why he had waited. Just ahead, the trail met a pathway cleared through the jungle—a road. Wide enough for a cart or wagon, the road was churned and muddy with deep wheel ruts. Well used, and recently, too. A shiver of excitement ran through him. In the jungle, you only build roads to important places. He looked down at Clyde, who even now stared down the road—north, toward the river.
“That way?” he whispered to the dog.
Clyde panted.
“Go on, boy. Dehdzat.”
Clyde moved onto the road, his nose inches from the mud, sniffing. Alex and the others followed. The sound of flowing water intensified, and not long after, he saw the river for the first time, glowing green through the thinning trees and the light of his GPNVGs.
At the edge of the tree line, Alex crouched down beside Clyde. It was a large river, quickly moving, probably eighty meters wide at least. Where the road met the river, someone had gone to the trouble to clear away the trees, burning an open area—a primitive yet effective form of clear-cutting. Where the ground had been cleared was a sturdy wooden bridge, supported by massive twisting ropes and large enough for a wide wagon to pass over—or a basilisk. This was the only way across the river, and someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to build it, making sure it was high enough for small boats to pass beneath. On the other side of the bridge stood a wooden dock with small river barges tied up next to it. The land beyond the dock rose into a great dark hill that climbed out of the trees, dominating the surrounding jungle. He stared at the hill. Something wasn’t…
It isn’t a hill! It was too cylindrical, too natural. Nature hated perfect lines. It was a building—a stone fort with gently curving walls rising up like an upside-down bowl. He had almost completely missed it.
That’s some serious camouflage. He pulled out his binoculars and examined the fort more closely. It was built entirely of dark stone and at least twenty meters high. Almost every inch of the walls was blanketed by a thick skin of grasping vines and brush, natural cover that further obscured the fort and hid it from prying eyes. Even staring right at it, the structure was easy to miss.
But the road led to the bridge, the bridge crossed the river, and the fort ruled the river. This was the center of power around here, Alex knew for a certainty. Because whoever sat within that fort dominated the main line of communication within the jungle: the river.
McKnight is in there. He has to be.
There was a tunnel entrance in the side of the fort. He could just make out the two large wooden doors, banded with iron bars, set within the tunnel. Guards stood before the entrance: at least six of those same four-armed humanoid creatures that had ambushed them earlier. They wore the same chain mail and carried large round shields and long spears. Over their backs, they wore the same curved two-handed great swords the others had carried. He didn’t see any crossbows, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. He scanned the curved walls of the fort but saw no fighting positions.
Alex lowered his binoculars. There was a soft rustling of leaves as Cassie dropped down beside him. He handed her the binoculars and waited. It took her some seconds to recognize what she was looking at, but when she did, her body stiffened, and she gasped.
“We’re going in there?” she whispered.
“McKnight will be there. Can you sense anything?”
She closed her eyes for several moments as she concentrated then opened them again and nodded. “Someone’s channeling, very close, very powerful. I think it’s her, that dark elf. It feels like her.”
Alex keyed his MBITR and reported what they had found to Buck. Buck acknowledged, noting that the assault team had also made good progress and was only about twenty minutes away. Alex cut the communications and glanced over at Cassie. “Sun’s coming up. We need to move away from the road, get farther back into the jungle.”
Alex left Toombs in place to watch the road, the bridge, and the fort—especially the fort. Being this close was dangerous, but they needed to keep eyes on the objective. Then he led Cassie back into the thick jungle, moving at least fifty meters away—far enough so that there’d be no way anyone could possibly see them. The rest of the team remained with Cassie and Alex, lying on their bellies and facing outward in a circle, watching the jungle as they waited for the assault team. Alex drank deeply from his Camelbak and had Cassie drink as well. Then he made sure they all ate. Even cold rations would give them calories for energy.
The sun began to rise, turning the eastern sky bright red. Here, just like Earth, the sun rose in the east. What else is the same? With the sun coming up, they lost their night-vision advantage. Alex sighed but flipped up his optics.
Less than a half hour later, the first members of the assault team appeared, moving silently through the bush. Alex sent Paul out to meet them, to guide them in to his position. When they were all in, Buck knelt down next to him, the lenses of his GPNVGs now also raised.
“Well?” Buck whispered.
“Come on,” Alex said, climbing to his feet and leading the other man to the edge of the river, where Toombs lay watching the fort. Both men lay down beside him, bringing out their binoculars to watch the enemy position.
Buck sighed heavily. “That’s a strong position.” He lowered his binoculars and looked at Alex’s eye. “Too strong. That’s a fortress.”
“McKnight is in there.”
“You don’t know that.” Buck looked through his binoculars again.
“The dog led us here. It makes sense.”
Buck stiffened. “Fuck me…”
Alex lifted his binoculars just in time to see a giant flying creature the size of a minivan circling in the predawn sky above the fort. It looked like a cross between a lizard and a bat. Abruptly, the creature began to beat its massive wings to slow down and descended. It disappeared from sight, probably having landed on the domed top of the fort.
There had been a figure sitting atop the beast, riding it. Controlling it.
Buck lowered his binoculars. “We’re done here.”
“But—”
“This isn’t going to happen—too much security.”
“What are you talking about? McKnight’s in there.”
“No. This is insane. There’s no way we’re assaulting a castle. We don’t have the firepower. We’ll come back in force.”
Alex stared at him. “What are you talking about? We need to—”
“Nothing!” Buck climbed to his feet, turned, and still hunched over, moved back to join the others within the bush.
Alex, feeling his anger building, went after him. Buck moved into the center of the soldiers, who each now lay prone, awaiting orders. He dropped down on one knee, pulled his map back out, and pondered it, his back to Alex. The message was clear: we’re done.
We’re not fucking done. Alex knelt beside him. “Sir, we can’t just leave. We need to—”
“We don’t need to do nothing.” Buck glared at him, spit flying from his mouth. “There is no we. I’m in charge, and we’re done here. I’ve made my call. We’ve got intel now. We know where they are. We head back and report what we’ve discovered. Someone much more senior can decide what to do next. At any rate, it’s pretty obvious to anyone with half a brain that our governments won’t want us starting an intergalactic war, not over one man.”
“These dark-elf creatures have already started this, not us. They attacked us.” Alex fought to remain in control of his emotions, but it was becoming increasingly difficult, and he knew it. This is just like the last time, just like when I let him bully me into doing the wrong thing, into leaving men behind. He exhaled and tried to choose his words caref
ully. “Sir, please listen to me. By the time we come back, if we come back, McKnight will be dead or gone. He’s in there right now, and he’s alive. I’m sure of it. This is the only chance we’re ever going to get. You and I both know our governments will never, not ever, authorize a direct action against an alien race. They’ll rationalize what these elves have done and explain how it was all our fault to begin with.”
“Maybe it was our fault. You ever think about that?”
Alex sat back, suddenly understanding what was happening.
“Jesus Christ. You’re afraid. Coming here, the rescue mission. It’s all been an act, hasn’t it? You’re completely full of shit.”
“The fuck you say?” Buck’s face turned bright red.
Alex stood up as did Buck. The two men confronted one another, the threat of violence rolling from them in waves. Alex, too angry to think clearly, raised his voice. “This was all a show for the troops, maybe even for yourself. You never really meant it when you talked shit about going after the colonel, about owing him a debt. You just wanted people to see you as the warrior you think you are. You were never going to go through with this. You were only looking for an excuse to say, Well, fuck it; we tried. It’s all bullshit, an act.”
Buck’s hatred and rage was palpable, a living thing. But behind the anger in the other man’s eyes, Alex saw the briefest hint of indecision.
“We’re done here, you immature little shit,” Buck snarled. “You Canucks never should have been brought on board this op. You’re not professional enough. We’re going home. Now!”
Alex exhaled, briefly noting his surroundings and making sure he had room to move.
So, he thought, surprisingly calm. This is really going to happen. “No,” he said quietly, simply… with finality.
Buck’s chin rose as he looked down at Alex. “What’s that, Captain? I didn’t catch that.”
“You caught it. We’re not going without McKnight. We’re not leaving anybody behind—not this time, not again.”
Alex could feel the eyes of the others on them. Buck must have, as well, because his gaze darted to them. Once again, there was a flash of indecision in his eyes. Then Buck snorted, ignoring Alex. “Captain Benoit is under arrest. Take him into custody.”
No one moved.
“We’re going after the colonel,” Alex said. “Leave if you want.”
“No, we’re not,” said Buck.
“Balls yes, we are,” said Clara. “You can go fuck yourself, you chickenshit prick.”
Some of the others murmured their assent, but still others seemed uncertain, their gaze going from Buck to Alex. The tension built. Mutiny, Alex thought, aware of what he was doing but unable to stop it. I’m advocating mutiny. In centuries of warfare, soldiers had been killed for far less. But he couldn’t help it, and he couldn’t go back now.
I’m not leaving anyone behind again.
Masters, one of the Americans, came up behind Buck. “Major. You saw what they did to MacDonald. We can’t leave the colonel to that. We can’t—”
Buck rounded on the other man and rammed a heavy finger into his chest, knocking him back. “You shut your goddamned insubordinate mouth, or you’re under arrest, too.”
Masters flinched. “Sir… we can’t leave—”
“We’re going,” Buck snarled, scanning the assembled soldiers, staring them down.
“Let’s talk about MacDonald,” Alex said. “Didn’t you say he was dead?”
Buck’s gaze snapped back to Alex, his eyes filled with desperation like a cornered animal.
“MacDonald is dead. They hung his—”
“He died after you bailed on him. His body was mutilated while he was still alive. You’d told me he was already dead. You ordered us to exfil while he was still alive, while he was being tortured. We don’t leave our people behind.”
“Fuck no, we don’t,” Clara said. Others mumbled angrily.
“We’re moving,” Buck said, his hand reaching down to the M4 hanging from his combat sling in front of him.
“After we get the colonel. Then, we’re out of here.” Alex’s own hand rested on the butt of his M4, also hanging off his own sling. How fast was Buck?
Fast.
The world around Alex became crystal clear as the adrenaline rushed through his blood system, enhancing his fight-or-flight responses. Everything became fine-tuned—every leaf on the trees, every vine. He heard the gurgling rush of the river and the droning of insects around them; he saw the bead of sweat running down Buck’s green-painted face.
Am I really going to shoot my superior officer? he asked himself, knowing the answer almost instantly, his heartbeat pounding a cadence in his ears: no.
I can’t do that. So where does that leave me? About to die.
From somewhere nearby, Clyde growled.
Buck moved first, grasping for his M4, raising it to shoot from the hip. Rather than go for his own rifle, Alex threw himself to the side, hitting the ground, knowing all the while that it was pointless; at this range, Buck couldn’t miss. But then Buck’s M4 flew from his hand, the weapon’s sling yanking him off balance before it snapped free. The carbine soared through the air, smashing into a tree trunk ten paces away.
Elizabeth stepped in front of Buck, her hands raised to stop him. “Wait.”
Buck punched her solidly in the face. Alex heard the cartilage crunch as the young woman flew back, her nose a bloody ruin. Clyde leapt for Buck. Buck—insanely fast—twisted out of the way and hammered his fist into the top of the dog’s head—dropping the animal in a heart-stopping moment. Alex, ignoring his own M4, which still hung from his sling, launched himself off the ground, tackling Buck around the knees. Both men went down, a tangled flurry of arms and legs. Buck hammered at Alex’s jaw with his elbow, ramming into the bone as he tried his best to break it. Pain flared through Alex, but before the other man could hit him again, he head-butted Buck, smashing his helmet into the other man’s chin. Blood flowed from Buck’s face as his head snapped back. But he came on again, a wild insanity in his eyes, like an animal, driven thoughtless by the need to rend and kill.
They rolled atop one another, each fighting for leverage, each trying to control the other’s limbs to get an advantage, an opening. Alex was no amateur in ground fighting—he had studied martial arts and jujitsu for most of his adult life—but Buck was crazy good, and so strong. At any moment, Alex expected the others to rush forward and hold him down while Buck finished him. After all, he was a traitor now.
But no one interfered. This fight, it seemed, was just between the two of them. Alex saw a flash of steel. A knife! Buck had somehow freed his fighting knife in the struggle. Knife fighting was always bad, always bloody—even when you won. Alex was only vaguely aware as his body went through an instant adrenaline dump: his mouth went dry, his heartbeat surged, and his vision focused, tunnellike, on the other man. Pain disappeared; fear disappeared—only muscle memory and training remained. Alex assumed full-guard position, locking his legs around Buck’s torso to control him. Unable to get in the position of leverage he needed, Buck still tried to ram the knife into Alex, but only managed to catch it against the edge of Alex’s ceramic plate. In desperation, Alex gripped Buck’s knife hand with both of his and yanked, rolling to the side. Buck elbowed Alex in the face, connecting solidly with his jaw. Alex saw bright lights but rammed his knee into Buck, aiming for the groin. Buck twisted his leg away, and Alex missed, but struck again, this time hitting the mass of nerves along the outside of Buck’s thigh. He connected, and Buck gasped in pain, creating space between them. Before Alex could take advantage of his opening, though, Buck was back on top, trying to shove the knifepoint into Alex’s throat with both hands. Alex caught Buck’s forearms, but the other man was larger, heavier, and stronger. The knifepoint descended.
Then the blade shattered, pieces flying away. Buck stared in confusion at the broken knife. The blade had somehow snapped off, leaving only an inch protruding from the hilt. Alex’s e
yes darted to the side, where Cassie stood only paces away, the pistol he had given her held in both hands. Tendrils of smoke drifted from the end of the silencer.
“Get off him right goddamned now, you—”
Buck threw the broken knife, hitting her in the face, and she fell back.
Reaching up, Alex gripped the sides of Buck’s helmet and wrenched it, twisting it—and Buck’s neck. Buck, feeling the pressure on his neck, panicked and rose up on his knees, trying to pry Alex’s hands free. But Alex didn’t fight his grip; instead, he used the other man’s distraction to flip him over onto his side. Then he slipped out from beneath him, coming up over top of the prostrate man, who now lay on his belly in the dirt. Realizing too late his mistake, the larger man thrashed and bucked his hips, desperate to get away, to get Alex off. Alex slammed his knee into Buck, right over the T-12-L1 thoracic vertebra. He grabbed the sides of Buck’s helmet again, and—knowing he had to move quickly or risk letting the other man escape—twisted it savagely up and to the side.
Buck’s neck snapped—a sickening, grinding crack. He yelped once and stopped fighting.
Alex fell onto his side, panting, gasping huge breaths of air, and still seeing spots in front of his eyes. What did I just do?
He got to his knees. Buck stared at him, surprise and terror in his eyes. His lips moved slowly. Spit bubbles popped at the corner of his mouth. Almost instantly, there was the smell of feces in the air. Alex looked up and saw Cassie watching him, her hand held against her cheek, blood tricking through her fingers. Their eyes locked. “Please. Do something,” he said.
She ran to Buck’s side, the gash in her cheek still dripping. Dropping down on her knees, she placed both hands on Buck’s head, closed her eyes, and concentrated.
Alex was sick, certain he was going to vomit. Traitor. I’m a traitor.
Starlight (The Dark Elf War Book 1) Page 39