by Andy Remic
Carter scanned the quarry.
‘Quite an operation you’ve got here, fellas,’ he muttered, and shuffled himself around to get a better look.
The Kataja Quarry was fed by a single wide road. Four more tanks served as heavy protection, and two tall timber guard towers stood bleak against the night with two snipers posed in each of them. Two more towers were positioned towards the back of the quarry, each tower again sporting two snipers. And then Carter saw them - almost perfectly camouflaged beside the four rough-timber sniper-towers:
SM-7 surface-to-air missiles.
Deployed from Mini-SM7.8 Blocks in III/IV and IVa configurations, the SM-7s were much more compact and discreet SAM weapons than had been used in earlier wars. They employed electronic countermeasures in the form of mono-pulse send/receivers for semi-active III-TR radar terminal guidance and inertial midcourse guidance. Launched from the SM7.8VLS Vertical Launching Systems the SM-7s were perfect for both low- and high-altitude threat interceptions and had almost total success rates even if target aircraft employed electronic countermeasures such as the ECM-6, Lockheed 52s and Sikorsky 2212 ASAMs.
‘Shit. There goes a fucking air strike.’
Carter waited patiently, watching, counting, observing.
The ground area was policed by Nex, heavily armed with sub-machine guns and pistols. They patrolled in teams of four, and there were at least eight teams operational - which meant a minimum of thirty-two Nex on the ground, eight operational snipers, and six T76 tanks which Carter had to assume were armed and ready for action. And all that backed up by serious SAM support and God only knew how many Nex in the barracks.
‘A lot of firepower,’ said Kade.
‘The game’s getting bigger.’
‘You think Jam is in there?’
‘He could be. This is where they took him, and the bodies of Slater and TT. If we don’t go in this is where our trail stops. This would be our dead end ... and the death of Natasha and my child.’
Kade did not reply.
Slowly, Carter eased back and rejoined Mongrel and Mila.
‘Big?’ Mongrel asked.
‘Fucking huge,’ said Carter softly. ‘Four-man Nex patrols, snipers in watchtowers, and tanks.’
‘I hate tanks,’ rumbled Mongrel.
‘What I don’t understand is why so many Nex are there. They suddenly protecting the LVA? Mila, have there always been this many soldiers based here?’
‘No. Originally it was quite small camp, when they first start mining. Only in last few weeks have they brought in so many more men ... these Nex. Now whole area is deserted; they frighten everybody away, and even police keep away.’
‘Greasy backhanders,’ said Mongrel.
‘Maybe.’
‘What’s your plan?’
Carter smiled, meeting Mongrel’s fearsome gaze. ‘Quite simple. You and Mila wait here, I go in alone. I’ll find out if Jam is being held there.’
‘No.’
‘What the fuck do you mean, “no”?’
‘I brought you in on this, Carter. I go in to see if Jam is there. He’s part of my team, I am responsible for him getting caught... I should have been there.’
‘What?’ sneered Carter. ‘You think if you’d been present it would have made a difference? Use your brain, man - all it would mean is that I’d be here alone looking for four dead bodies instead of three.’
‘Or not here at all,’ growled Mongrel.
‘Listen, I know how you feel, Mongrel - but look at the facts. You’re a demolitions expert - that I’ll grant you. If this place needed blowing up, I’d be happy to let you waltz in with your HighJ and get the job done. But fm good at covert; in fact, I am the fucking best. And you know it.’
Their gazes locked.
‘You know it, Mongrel. I’ll be in and out in one hour.’
‘Let me come with you, Carter. It too dangerous.’
Carter shook his head. ‘No, no, my friend. You have your new companion to babysit. After all, you can’t say we really know her. What if this is a set-up? A trap.’ The word tasted bad on his tongue.
‘She not one of them, Carter.’
‘Prove it.’
‘I know it. In here.’ The huge man put his fist to his heart.
‘You know fuck all, Mongrel. The only way you come with me is if we put a bullet in her skull. Are you willing to do that? Then stop your fucking whining ... you came to me in the hospital when Natasha was dying because you needed fucking help - and yeah, I’ve got my own motivations but you came to me for a reason: because I get the fucking job done. Now leave me to do it.’
‘What you want me do?’
‘Looking at the fucking defences, I’d say an air attack is out of the question. Bastards have learned from past mistakes, eh, Mongrel? Our only option would be heavy tank back-up to take out this Nex army - and the other main problem is the single road in and out. It channels an attack ... but then, that will only be a problem if I bubble it.’
‘I think Spiral need to know about this place now. They can form their own conclusions.’
‘OK. You send out a WB as I head in. Call in some choppers and tanks in case the game goes a little pear-shaped. I’m going in now while we still have the cover of darkness ...’
‘Why not wait for back-up?’
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this place ... and there’s no time like the present. Time is running out. I need that machine ... Natasha needs that machine. Or –‘ Carter’s eyes went hard ‘I - won’t be held responsible for my actions ...’
Mongrel watched Carter disappear into the night, fading like a ghost in a bad dream. He wore his balaclava once more, and had armed himself with some serious weaponry.
Mongrel sat with his back against a tree, M24 across his lap as he hurriedly composed his digital report for Spiral and sent it on in the form of a WarBurst. Highest priority. Straight to the top.
Mongrel smiled grimly to himself.
‘Will he be all right?’ said Mila softly, blonde hair blowing in the gentle breeze.
‘Yeah, Carter is the best,’ said Mongrel.
‘Shall we keep watch?’
‘We will have to be careful.’
‘I’ve been watching these people for months and I’ve never been caught. I am careful, and I am invisible.’
‘Carter spotted you - up on that slope.’
‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘He is good. How you say, a killer? A psychopath?’
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ said Mongrel.
‘I would,’ said Mila. ‘I see it in his eyes. He is a little insane, I think.’
‘In this world, Iyubimya, I think we all are.’
Carter crouched in the darkness at the edge of the quarry, senses alert and ready for anything. He clipped free his Sp_drag - nicknamed a Skimmer or Parasite Skimmer -and connected it to a rock. Tiny drills ate into the stone and secured the device. Taking a deep breath of humid night air, Carter stepped off the rim and into the Kataja Quarry.
Below, halogen lights glowed.
Trucks were coming and going, engines revving in the floodlit rock arena. The LVA pump worked effortlessly, ceaselessly, and he could imagine the thick pumping of the rich fluid into the huge containers - ready for refinement and distribution around the world ...
Focus.
Jam ... location?
The obvious. Op HQ.
Carter’s boots trod the almost vertical wall with infinite care; a single loose rock, a single trickle of stone and he could be highlighted, sighted by a sniper - and pop. Dog meat. Carter took his time. He had another three hours of darkness ... there was no immediate rush.
Squatting on a large protrusion of rock, Carter waited, wire coiled behind him and giving him a life-umbilical to the rocky mother wall. He watched the Nex patrols again, his sharp eyes noting their movements, their efficiency and yet their - complacency? Or was it arrogance?
Carter grinned. He’d given a few arrogant Nex presents that they would nev
er forget.
Moving off once more, he eased his way down the wall and imprinted on his brain a map of the layout of the military installations and buildings and the Nexes’ patterns of patrol. As he reached ground level, touching down softly, he flicked a tiny switch and the Sp_drag released from its hold on the rock and wound itself slowly together, allowing Carter to stow the device away in his belt.
He crouched, calming his breathing.
He palmed his Browning and secured the M24 carbine tight across his back. He screwed the Browning’s silencer into place and remembered the last time he had used the mod - back in Switzerland when it had almost got him killed. Now he needed its stealth ...
Carter eased his way through the bushes and rocks and halted, watching the patrolling Nex. They worked well -tight units with heavy firepower.
Carter focused on the Op HQ. The door opened and three men stepped out, moving across the flat hard-packed ground to the group of corrugated rusting buildings beside the LVA pump. He chewed his lip, listening to their conversation ... but got no clues about whether Jam was present, a prisoner, dead or had been shipped away to some distant location.
Could he risk an ECube scan?
No. The enemy might pick up the electronic tracking pulses. And then he would be fucked.
Carter rested back on his heels, calming his thoughts, forcing images of Natasha and their unborn child from his mind. He could not afford to think of them now.
Carter waited ... a good half-hour passed and activity seemed to lessen. Five trucks roared off in support of six large LVA tankers; their lights cut through the night and their engines howled, heavy wheels whirling up the dry dust and then leaving a deathly stillness in their wake.
The patrols seemed to lessen.
Carter checked his watch.
3.20 a.m.
Time to move.
Taking a deep breath, and timing himself between Nex patrols, Carter set out from the rocks around the edge of the quarry so that he could zigzag across to the rear of the Op HQ through as many shadows and trees as possible ...
And hope that the snipers didn’t spot him.
Mongrel checked his watch.
3.17 a.m.
‘Come on, Carter, what the fuck you doing?’
Mongrel and Mila had watched the quarry for some time, noting the loading of Nex troops into trucks, the filling of LVA tankers, the continuous drone of the LVA pump. Then, when he could see no sign of Carter, he eventually decided that it was too risky to keep popping their heads over the ridge line ... it could get them shot.
So they retreated down the slope a little and listened, waiting for any sounds of infiltration or discovery - sirens, gunshots, anything.
‘You OK?’
Mila nodded. She was tired, pale, and looked very weak. She was trying hard to put on a brave face but Mongrel could sense her weariness.
‘I am fine.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty.’
‘That’s young.’
She shrugged. ‘I am still full woman,’ she said, smiling.
‘You need to sleep?’
‘No!’
‘Come here, girl.’ Mila moved over to Mongrel and he took her in his arms. She rested her head against his huge chest. Her eyes closed, and Mongrel looked down at the top of her head, the fine silken web of hair. He inhaled her perfume. Lust was not far from his thoughts.
Mongrel’s eyes scanned from left to right, then he shifted a little. Mila sighed against him.
He hefted the M24 thoughtfully, wondering idly how Carter planned to get Jam out in the event that the Spiral agent was unable to move under his own steam.
Carter would think of something. He would probably secure Jam in that event and await heavy back-up ... And soon - with luck - the tanks would arrive.
Mongrel nodded to himself, his tongue chasing a crumb around the cavernous toothless interior of his mouth. Damn crumbs, he thought. Closely followed by, Fucking teeth.
Metal pressed against the back of his head.
It was quite obviously the barrel of a gun.
‘Drop the carbine, fucker.’
Mongrel froze - the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.
They emerged from the darkness, drifting like ghosts with sub-machine guns levelled at his face and the sleeping form of Mila. They were Nex. And there were twelve of them ...
Slowly, Mongrel dropped his M24 and shook Mila awake.
‘Oh!’ she said, her gaze alighting on the Nex. ‘Oh.’
‘Well done. You led them straight to us.’
‘I... I did?’
‘We’ve been watching you for weeks,’ said a Nex softly, copper eyes burning into Mila’s face. It stepped forward and smashed the butt of the gun against her head, sending her sprawling across the ground to lie still, blood flowing freely from her wound.
‘And you ...’
Mongrel launched himself at the Nex, who neatly sidestepped, its fist lashing out to slam against Mongrel’s jaw. He rolled, countered with an uppercut but the Nex lodged and rammed the sub-machine gun into Mongrel’s face.
The large Spiral operative hit the ground.
Five heavy kicks sent him spinning into unconsciousness.
They bound the two captives with wire, and dragged them down the slope towards the truck which idled, exhaust fumes spitting grey into the dark humid night.
‘Just one more.’
‘How perfect.’
The truck disappeared quietly into the night.
Carter dropped to a crouch, a low hiss escaping his lips, the Browning tight in his fist. He rolled into the shadows under a wide pine tree, felt needles prickling through his clothing and waited until the stealthy footfalls of the patrol had passed.
Releasing his breath slowly, he crawled to the edge of the wooden walls of the Op HQ and moved to the nearest window. It had been blacked out but, standing, Carter could see through a chink in the curtain.
The Op HQ was empty ...
He watched for a while, just to make sure.
Carter, hand touching the wall, slid along the side of the building and glanced up again towards the sniper towers. He could see two Nex, motionless, copper eyes scanning like those of automatons. With a swift movement Carter reached the door and slid inside, closing the heavy wooden slab behind him.
The Op HQ was a large room, perhaps twenty metres square. On one side of the chamber was living accommodation - low single beds, four sets of bunk beds, a wide, rough-hewn oak table with a scattering of chairs - and in the corner a kitchen assembly with cooker, sink, kettle and a disarray of pans and cups. To the right the whole twenty-metre wall was taken up by oak benching littered with all manner of computing equipment, scanners, a satellite-control deck, and other complicated machinery that Carter suspected had something to do with the SAM defences. Lights glittered on small grey alloy consoles - blipping orange and green, then a cascade of purple which seemed to shower across the displays. Beside the high-tech computer equipment were several large wall boards containing maps and documents, and a fixed digital map; it was towards these that Carter gravitated.
‘It’s too quiet. ‘
‘I know.’
‘It could be a trap ...’
‘But I need to find Jam. It’s no use sitting in the woods all night.’
Carter stared up at the maps. They ranged across several continents and seemed to display LVA sites operational and potential - and several that were under investigation by the Fuel Inspectorate. Countries included Egypt, Afghanistan, China, Peru, Russia, Norway and Australia. Carter lifted his ECube and it captured the information with a digital whine.
Moving to the console, he activated it and the digital map buzzed into life. Passwords were requested and Carter rested his ECube against the computer terminal - it clicked softly, and letters and numbers flickered at incredible speed across the display as the ECube hacked the terminal and the digital map spun into focus ...
Again, LVA sites
were displayed ...
And other markings scattered across the map, highlighted in a bright orange that glittered softly.
Carter’s eyes were drawn towards London as—
Glass smashed from all around the room as five windows imploded and Nex rolled to their feet with sub-machine guns levelled. Carter whirled low and the silenced Browning was spitting in his fist as he dived for the benching. Two Nex took bullets in their faces, blood spraying in bright arcs and were flipped into untidy dead heaps against the wooden floor.
Carter reached for another magazine—
As a gun barrel touched his head.
‘Getting slow,’ said the Nex, voice soft, asexual, a gentle croon. It had come in through one of the windows behind Carter as he fought.
Carter grinned. ‘Yeah, I’m too fucking old for this game.’
The other three Nex approached, forced Carter to stand, and took his Browning and M24 carbine. They bound his hands tightly behind his back with wire and one of the Nex - seemingly the leader, although they wore no insignia or marks of rank - turned and stared at the two Nex dead on the floor.
He spun back, copper eyes burning, and moved close to Carter.
‘You have been a thorn in our side for a long time.’
‘Good.’
Carter’s own Browning smashed against his head and blackness whirled in patterns against a sea of red, floating with bright brittle stars. He was dragged to his knees and blinked, working his jaw, and spat a little blood onto the boards.
‘Can we kill him?’
‘Not yet. They’re bringing the others.’
Carter cursed inwardly and, licking his lips, scanned the room. He tried to loosen his bonds and caught another blow from his own weapon that sent him crashing to the wooden boards with a heavy thump. He lay stunned for a few moments, pain pounding him. The Nex dragged him to his knees again and he started to laugh, a long low evil sound.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘The detonation.’
‘What detonation?’
‘Better get looking, little worms. Not long now before this whole fucking LVA plant blows sky-high ... after all, you dumb motherfuckers, I am in a Demolition Squad…’