‘Give me something, Reid. It’s getting real dark up here.’
As Hammerson’s voice sounded in his ear, Sam Reid was already changing the VELA imaging vector to thermal to pick out the heat signatures of the various bodies on the mountain. The image slant dipped another few degrees, and he tried again to improve the angle but it still dragged to the side.
Shit! Not now, he thought, as his fingers flew over the satellite commands. Nothing made a difference; the image still slipped.
‘Sorry, boss, only got a few more minutes here. About to move over the horizon and lose my line of sight. But frankly, it looks like goddamn Main Street down there. Gotta be a dozen people moving on that mountainside now.’
Sam pulled back to look at the multiple fluorescing blips. The two HAWCs carried tracers in their suits that allowed them to be easily identified.
‘Okay, I got two bodies coming down at you fast. I also got five, repeat five, warm bodies I can see intermittently in and out of a satellite shadow… they must be in an overhang or ravine.’
The HAWC commander grunted in reply, his breathing ragged as he ran up the steep slope. ‘That’ll be Logan and his team. Go on.’
‘Then I got multiple groups coming up from different angles. Four bodies coming at a rapid rate, approximately three miles back on your five o’clock. They’re in a standard tracking formation — my guess is they’re your Mossad ghosts.’ He moved to another section and zeroed in. ‘Okay, I got two more coming up from your seven, one of them moving at extreme speed… and he’s hot… very hot. Body heat off the scale. One guess, boss.’
‘That’s our man. Can you —’
Sam cut him off. ‘Wait — that’s not all. You got another three bodies on their way, also at extreme speed. Oh shit — they’re hot, boss, way too hot for anyone normal, and they’re…’
Sam’s words froze in his mouth as he saw an enormous shape appear on the slope behind the two figures coming down from above the HAWCs’ position. It moved downwards first, then shifted sharply in another direction. To a military man like Sam, its intention was clear — intercept or ambush.
‘Boss, something huge just appeared a few klicks above you. I’m about to pass over the horizon any second and my window will close. But looks like you’re about to have a massive new guest at your party — definitely non-human.’
The screen image fuzzed momentarily and then cleared. Sam focused on two particular shapes — the enormous one moving into an ambush position, and the one coming up towards it at a speed faster than any normal human could manage.
In another second, the screen fuzzed again and went white.
‘Sorry, boss… I’m over the rim and blind. You’re on your own. Good luck.’
Hammerson responded with a brief acknowledgment and signed out.
Sam sat back in his chair, frustration balling in his stomach. He wanted to be out there… he needed to be out there. If it was Alex coming up the slope, as they suspected, Sam was the best person to talk to him. Sam’s size, skill and experience also made him the best choice to deal with the unknown adversary approaching Hammerson and Franks.
Or used to make me the best, he thought.
He stared at the white screen, unaware that he was punching his fist into one of his dead thighs, over and over. Finally, he lifted his hand and brought it down hard on the steel armrest of his wheelchair.
‘Fuck these legs, and fuck this chair!’
Hammerson and Franks jogged up the slope. It was now full night, and they’d inserted night-vision contacts into their eyes, which made them bulge slightly. The tiny discs included infrared and thermal-vision technology operated through a combination of eye blinks — another useful tool from the HAWC weapons labs.
Hammerson pulled in deep lungfuls of air as he made his way up the slope. The forty-five-degree incline and the soft snowdrifts made a good spring-off impossible; the result — each stride sapped a lot of energy. The communication pellet in his ear pinged and he touched it briefly. It was Chief Logan.
‘Jack, me and the boys have tracked the Kearns party to where they entered a small cleft in the mountainside. With the amount of vegetation growing over the top, it’s more like a dark green tunnel. We’re holding for the moment. What’s your position? Over.’
Hammerson sucked in another breath. ‘Good work, Bill. Hold it there. We’ve had intel that there are bodies coming down at us — two of the Kearns’s group we think. Also multiple bodies on the way up — not sure if they’re friendlies, so you need to dig in deep there. We’ll pick up the two coming down in approximately ten minutes, then return to your location ASAP. Over.’
Hammerson thought Logan sounded relieved as he signed off. He didn’t doubt for a minute that Logan’s men would consider trekking any higher in the cold dark as smart an idea as rolling in the snow naked.
He looked up at Franks and saw she was starting to leave him behind, even though she paused every so often to change her vision from light-enhancing to thermal imaging to scan the steep slope ahead. He reached into a pouch in his suit and pulled free a small foil pack. He tore it open and extracted a small gel capsule, which he broke under his nose, inhaling the stimulants. The chemical explosion went off in his head first, then travelled down his chest to bloom in his extremities. Suddenly, old legs became young. He increased his pace.
Markenson had pulled off his gloves. In each hand, he held a mug of steaming coffee. He handed one to Chief Logan, then took a drink from the other. ‘Can we light a fire, Chief? It’s freezing up here.’
Logan looked at his team; the bulky clothing they wore made them look like overstuffed bears. They’d been grumbling for a while now as it got darker. To his credit, Markenson had made sure they each had a coffee to warm them up. Logan wished he could agree to the fire.
‘Sorry, Ollie, this isn’t a cookout. Hammerson tells me there are people above us coming down, and more people below us coming up — we’re about to be sandwiched. Best we keep a low profile until we see what everyone’s up to.’
Markenson shrugged. ‘Hey, maybe some of them are the three Jordan brothers.’
Logan nodded. ‘That wouldn’t be a bad thing — we could sure do with their help.’ He motioned towards the other three officers with his head. ‘Tell the boys to keep it quiet. I’m going to have a quick look around. And no fire, Ollie. Got it?’
‘Got it, Chief.’ Markenson raised his mug in a salute, then sipped again.
Salamon held the scope to his eye. Captain Senesh was in sight now, moving slowly in the snow; he could tell she was heavily fatigued. He scanned the terrain but could find no trace of Alex Hunter. He switched back to Senesh. The tracks she moved in told him that she was following the ex-HAWC, but had probably dropped well back. They’d take her first then.
He made a single flat chopping motion in the air and his men fanned out, running fast and drawing their weapons.
Salamon lifted his gun. The long silencer would deliver a high level of sound-baffling, and the extended barrel added projectile stability for greater accuracy. He held the gun in a two-handed grip and sighted high on Senesh’s back and just at the base of her neck — a kill shot. He gently squeezed the trigger. The hammer drawing back and releasing made no more noise than the tick of a clock.
The gun spat softly and the figure jerked forward and fell into the snow, partially obscured by a massive tree trunk.
That’s for my first team, traitor. Now for Hunter, he thought confidently.
Alex came to a stop. He swivelled his head… behind, sideways, then back up the slope. So many people, so many noises. He could hear men laughing in one direction; and Adira’s heavy breaths far behind him as she continued up the slope; and rushing footsteps — multiple bodies, heavy, moving without any fatigue. Elite soldiers, two teams, he thought. Further up, there was a larger group, spread out.
He closed his eyes to concentrate, and placed his hand against the bark of a tree. He immediately felt the vibrations of the moving people. He ground his teeth and focused harder, searching for something else… There it is. Its footfalls were slow and stealthy, as if it was tracking something.
An explosion of pain rippled from Alex’s forehead all the way to the back of his skull and down his spine. An image of his mother screaming in the dark blasted his senses, almost causing him to cry out in anguish. His fingers gripped the tree trunk, tearing away a length of bark, and the rapid increase in his body heat melted the snow around him.
A muffled gunshot jerked his head upright; he felt the impact as if it had struck his own flesh. He spun and stared into the darkness, slowing his breathing, listening. Behind him, the cold landscape was as quiet as a whisper — just the soft shush of a snowdrift as it shifted under its own weight, a branch creaking as its wood contracted, the distant rustle of some nocturnal creature on the evening hunt.
He couldn’t hear Adira anymore, but sensed she was hurt. That bullet had been meant for her… she needed him.
Alex’s mind was torn. He stared down to where the Israeli woman probably lay. He knew he should return to help her; even though his trust in her had leaked away long ago, he still owed her… something. But another voice commanded him to continue onward, towards the thing that was coming nearer, the beast he had to confront.
He balled his fist and punched the tree trunk.
He took a last look up the mountainside, then turned to sprint down the slope, gathering speed with every step.