by Dave Edlund
“I’ll have you mopping floors and cleaning toilets for the remainder of your tour here, Private. Do you hear me!” Xu’s anger was building. Among the enlisted men he had a reputation for a volatile temper.
Tao was desperate. He knew what he had seen, and he knew that reporting it was the correct procedure. But if he couldn’t demonstrate these facts quickly, he would be punished for sure. His mind was turning in circles. No, wait… yes, maybe he could prove to Lieutenant Xu that the channel had, indeed, been open.
“Sir! The electronic log… if you check the log, it will prove that I am telling you the truth!”
Xu paused momentarily to consider the Private’s suggestion. Yes, he would check the log—and when he saw that there had been no irregularities, he would have Private Tao brought up on charges of insubordination.
Without saying a word, Xu moved to an adjacent computer terminal and entered his password, gaining access to the communication event log. This log automatically recorded all incoming and outgoing communication activity, the channel, and the date and time of day. The log also recorded the source of all outgoing messages, whether from the communication center or from other computer terminals within the four main buildings of the compound.
Xu scrolled back in time 30 minutes; then started to advance the log record one minute at a time. Exactly as he thought—no activity on any of the three satellite channels. A mean sneer began to grow on Xu’s face, and then he saw it. Exactly nineteen minutes ago, channel one became active—just as Private Tao had reported. Xu followed the log record forward in time, and exactly two minutes ago, the channel was closed. That would be right about the time he had arrived at the communication center.
So, Private Tao had been telling the truth. But why would someone send an unscheduled satellite communication at this early hour when nearly all the staff were asleep? What message could possibly take seventeen minutes to send? The satellite communications were state-of-the-art and could easily dispatch even the most lengthy status reports in a few seconds.
Xu looked again at the monitor. The message had originated from the science wing, in the computer lab—terminal five, to be exact. It took a moment to sink in, and then Lieutenant Xu realized something was very wrong.
“Get Lieutenant Li on the phone. Tell him to report here immediately!”
Chapter 27
Darfur
June 14 0300 hours
Ghost quickly fastened several wire ties to bind the cut section of fence, masking the team’s entry point. Without wasting a moment, the four men silently retreated from the perimeter fence, wanting to place as much distance between themselves and the compound as possible.
Peter and Gary were both visibly relieved to be outside again, but Jim looked as calm as usual. Peter guessed that he had probably done this a hundred times before.
With Ghost in the lead and Jim bringing up the rear, the team retraced the route they had taken from the ridge overlooking the compound less than two hours ago. The air was cool and refreshing, and the sky was brilliantly clear. The moon, although low on the horizon, cast enough light on the desert to see, but Jim and Ghost still donned their NVGs to make the navigation easier and the travel faster. Peter and Gary simply had to follow Ghost.
With at least some of the data files downloaded to Gary’s server, and a cursory examination of the computer and medical dissection labs conducted, Commander Nicolaou felt they had gathered sufficient intelligence to make a useful report.
Despite this success, deep inside he had an unshakable feeling of dread and primal fear while inside the compound. Whether it was the sights and smells of the medical lab, the unnatural groans they heard in the hallway, or something else, he wasn’t sure. His instincts had told him it was time to cut and run—and he seldom failed to trust his instincts.
During the infiltration and exfiltration, no one had seen a single occupant of the compound. As odd as it seemed, the facility appeared to be well maintained by a staff of… what? Robots? Ghosts? No, he knew that people—ordinary people—staffed these buildings and did whatever it was that served the purpose of its existence.
Jim looked again at the business card Gary had given him—he needed to get his team working on this. It was important enough to risk using the com gear. “Bull. Get Lacey on the sat phone. Tell her we have a data dump. She needs to get the analysts working on it.” Jim concluded the message with the web address and password Gary had written on his card.
With Ellen Lacey and her team of analysts working over the data files, answers would be forthcoming. But for now at least the mystery remained.
s
Colonel Ming was not pleased. The clock on the wall signaled the time was 3:30 a.m. Lieutenant Xu, Lieutenant Li, Sergeant Wong, and Private Tao were all gathered in the communication center.
“Lieutenant Li, assuming that somehow this facility has been breached and an unauthorized message was sent from the computer center, what is your tactical assessment?”
“Sir!” Li replied, standing stiffly at attention. “It would have to be a small team, perhaps only one or two skilled operators.”
“And?” Ming prodded.
“Sir, if it was me, I would minimize my time within the facility. Given the current time, I would make certain to be well away from here before sunrise.”
“Lieutenant, if you were leading this hypothetical band of marauders, where would you be based?”
Li was growing increasingly nervous. He did not like being the focus of Colonel Ming’s attention. Even though the room was a cool 68 degrees, he felt himself becoming uncomfortably warm.
Li hesitated momentarily before answering. “The ridge, sir. It overlooks the compound providing an excellent vantage point to observe the activities here. The far side of the ridge is hidden from our view and provides protection from the afternoon sun.
“Sergeant Wong and I have scouted that area and there are several shallow caves on the far side of the ridge, near the crest, that would make excellent shelter. That is where I would base my operation.”
Colonel Ming considered Li’s words carefully. He was not a man to make rash decisions.
“Lieutenant Li. You will take a squad of twelve Homothals and find the tracks of the intruders, assuming there were intruders…” Ming cast a threatening glance at Private Tao. It would be on him if this proved to be a fruitless chase.
“Sergeant Wong; you will also lead a squad of twelve Homothals but I want you to work around the ridge, flank it. Make certain the Homothals are all given the standard dosage of phencyclidine.” This was a common practice to enhance the natural aggression of the creatures as well as reduce their response to pain.
Both Li and Wong bowed, signifying their obedience.
“If there is a hostile military team there I want the two of you to bring back their commander for questioning. He will know something of this transmission, no doubt. The rest are to be killed. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir!”
“And Lieutenant Xu, I want you to trace the communication signal. I want to know who received that message and, more importantly, what information was sent!” Having given his orders, Colonel Ming stormed out of the communication center.
Chapter 28
Darfur
June 14 0350 hours
Unbeknownst to Commander Nicolaou and his small recon team, they were not alone on the desert sands. Lieutenant Li and his platoon of Homothals were trailing not far behind. In addition to being much stronger than the average human male, the Homothals possessed certain animal skills including ultra-keen senses—hearing, sight, smell—as well as an animal’s instincts.
Many times Li had observed the Homothals during training maneuvers in the desolate Western Sudan desert. It was very common for a Homothal to freeze when he was being observed by an adversary. More often than not, Li never even knew they were under surveillance. It was just a sense that the Homothals had that alerted them to the fact they had, for that moment, become prey—not un
like any wild animal that Li had encountered.
Now, with only moonlight for illumination and barely a whisper of a breeze, Li trusted the Homothals—clad in standard desert camouflage and armed with state-of-the-art QBZ-95 assault rifles—to track the men who had infiltrated the computer center.
s
On the ridge, observing through spotting scopes, Homer and Coyote could see their small team returning from the compound. The two-man observation team was ensuring that their teammates were not being followed. So far, it looked encouraging; nobody had been seen leaving the compound in pursuit of Boss Man, Ghost, Peter, and Gary.
Then Homer caught just the briefest glimpse of movement maybe a hundred yards behind Jim. Anyone else would have dismissed it as imagination, but not Homer. He spoke softly into his throat mic. The communication was automatically scrambled making it nearly impossible that any eavesdropper could understand the message.
“Boss Man, you have company, maybe a hundred yards on your tail. Can’t determine how many, just got a brief glimpse of movement.”
“Roger. We’re almost to the base of the ridge. Watch our back.”
“Roger,” Homer replied. He and Coyote were armed with the Barrett rifles; they could easily reach out and “touch” any adversary within a threatening range of the four-man reconnaissance team. But unbeknownst to Homer and Coyote, a second threat was approaching; one that would have fatal consequences.
s
The second platoon of Homothals, under the command of Sergeant Wong, followed a path further to the south of the position Homer and Coyote occupied. Using the terrain for cover, they moved quickly and without detection. Shortly, Wong would have his Homothal strike force on the ridge far to the left of the two SGIT observers. With Li striking from the front and drawing the enemy’s attention, Wong could approach very close on his enemy’s flank without being seen. It would be a textbook maneuver, made possible because of the firsthand knowledge Li and Wong had of the landscape.
With Jim still in the rear and Ghost taking the lead, the recon team crested the ridge single file right in front of Homer and Coyote.
“Any further sight of our followers?” Jim asked, his voice barely audible.
“No, sir, nothing. It’s as if they vanished,” replied Homer.
“I wouldn’t bet on it. They had to know they were on our trail.” Jim was keeping his voice low, and his men were gathered close around him. The group was huddled just over the crest of the ridge so they wouldn’t be seen from any observers below—which meant that they could not see the approaching Homothals until they were only a few yards away.
Due to their superior hearing, the lead Homothal and three others zeroed in on Jim’s location and silently converged on their target.
As soon as the SGIT team came into view in the dim light, the closest Homothal charged; a millisecond later, the other three did as well. The four creatures crossed the six yards separating them from their prey in only four short, powerful strides.
Instinctively both Homer and Coyote, who had been facing toward the charging Homothals, leveled their Barrett rifles and fired. The .50 caliber bullets each struck midsection in two of the Homothals, but it was as much the muzzle blast from the rifles as the bullets that threw the two creatures backwards into a lifeless heap.
Peter and Gary dove for the ground.
Jim and Ghost pivoted to face the attack. Ghost had the best angle on the two remaining Homothals and fired without hesitation. The two figures were within five feet as Ghost pulled the trigger of the AA12, the weapon set to full auto. It was a simple matter to nudge the muzzle left and right while discharging five rounds of 00 buck shot every second. Blood and bone fragments sprayed the air as the Homothals were cut down by the automatic shotgun.
The two Homothals crumpled at Ghost’s feet. As he looked at them, seeing their features through his NVGs, he could see that they were odd in appearance, maybe deformed, but certainly not like any man he had ever seen. “What the hell?”
“Bull, Magnum! Get everyone! We need you up here on the ridge! Now!” yelled Nicolaou into his communication microphone. There was no point in being quiet any longer.
The high ground was always the best choice, and their camp, 30 yards or so below the ridge, would be a death trap.
The remaining SGIT soldiers quickly scrambled up to join Commander Nicolaou on the ridge crest. Ethan, Todd, and Hamaad were in close pursuit.
Still confident his team could win this skirmish, Jim shouted to Peter and Gary, who were hugging the ground, armed only with the pistols they took on the reconnaissance mission. “Fall back to the other civilians and guard the rear!” Without the training of the SGIT soldiers, Peter and his friends were unlikely to survive the close combat.
Then, using hand signals, Jim indicated for his team to spread out and take cover as best they could. Small rocks the size of a soccer ball became appealing protection. There simply was not much rock or terrain to offer shelter from bullets. But they could use the gross geography, the ridge itself. Whoever their assailants were, they were obviously attacking up the slope of the ridge. Certainly these were the pursuers that Homer had glimpsed.
Regardless of their number, they would have to expose themselves as they came up the ridge and approached the crest. The SGIT team had to get a bead on them first, as they were just coming into view.
Two minutes passed… and then five minutes, without any sign of further assailants. Nicolaou was beginning to think that the assault was over; that the attacking force had only been four men. He moved ever so slightly so he could see Ghost or Bull, whoever was closest.
That’s when the bullet struck the rock that Jim’s head was resting against. Instantly his entire team opened up in the direction the shot had been fired from. The muzzle flashes exposed his team’s positions, and the fire was returned. As near as Jim could tell, there were at least four, maybe five or more, enemy soldiers engaging his team. They had spread out along the edge of the ridgeline, just below the crest. More could be below and Jim would not know until they joined the battle.
Homer and Coyote were using their Barrett rifles at close range, since that was all they had. This placed them at a disadvantage since the weapons only held ten rounds and they were not especially maneuverable in close quarters. The large .50 caliber rifle bullet, on the other hand, was fantastic at splitting even large boulders that the enemy was using for cover.
Jim was sure he had seen two enemy soldiers go down for good—solid hits—but the fire was not letting up. There must be reinforcements below that were filling up the line.
Peter and Gary had crawled to the rear of the fighting and joined up with Todd and Ethan; each had brought their recently issued rifles with them. Hamaad was there as well, AK-47 clutched in both hands and a machete strapped to his hip. In the rear, and slightly lower on the ridge, they could not see any targets to engage.
The SGIT soldiers were all using NVGs. Normally this would have given them an advantage in the dim moonlight, but their adversaries seemed to be able to see just fine. Jim didn’t see goggles on any of the enemy, and yet they certainly showed no hesitation in maneuvering and they could quickly pick out their targets.
Two Homothals emerged from a boulder at the edge of the ridge and charged Jim’s position. He easily took them down with a short burst from his assault rifle. At this close range it was hard to miss.
No sooner had Jim fired when another Homothal charged, this time toward the middle of the SGIT position. Ghost hit it with a load of 00 buck, and he saw the body shoved backward from the impact of the shot into its left shoulder. But then it regained its balance and continued charging. Ghost fired again, and the buckshot struck the creature in the belly—it continued charging.
Now only ten feet away from Ghost, the Homothal leveled its rifle and Ghost let loose five loads of shot that tore a hole through the Homothal’s abdomen. The creature fell, but it still was not dead! It rolled to its side and began to raise its rifle at Ghost w
ho had never seen anything like this before. Any of those hits would have killed a man. This thing… whatever it was… just wouldn’t die!
Ghost aimed the AA12 and fired his last shot, hitting the creature in the head. It rolled over, motionless. Ghost ejected the spent drum and loaded a fresh one just in time to face a charge by three more Homothals. Homer and Coyote were doing as best they could with the heavy sniper rifles, but they simply weren’t an effective weapon in this close-quarters gunfight.
Still, as long as he didn’t run out of ammo, and as long as Boss Man, Bull, Homer, Coyote, and Magnum remained in the fight, Ghost figured they would come out on top. That was before the attack on their flank.
s
Given the distraction that the frontal assault had provided, it was easy for Sergeant Wong to split his team and maneuver to cover both the flank and rear of the besieged SGIT team. He watched as seven of Li’s Homothals were killed. A loss, yes, but these creatures were serving their purpose. Wong felt no remorse over their destruction—he no longer saw them as men.
As the third wave of three Homothals charged the front of the line, Wong unleashed his attack on the left flank and rear.
Chapter 29
Darfur
June 14 0405 hours
The moon was low in the dark early-morning sky, casting long shadows across the uneven terrain. The deep shadows made it easy for the Homothals to approach the flank and rear of the defenders position without being seen. The gunfire amply covered any incidental noise of their approach.
Fighters on both sides had become engrossed in the rapidly unfolding events. The group of six Homothals approaching from the rear were so focused on coordinating their attack on the enemy position that they failed to see Peter and his friends huddled beside two large boulders.
As the Homothals broke cover and sprinted toward the crest of the ridge, Hamaad opened up, firing his rifle on full auto until the magazine was empty. In the darkness it was impossible to determine if he hit any of his targets. The attackers continued charging up the slope—only now they knew where the defenders were.