Gorgon

CHAPTER 25

Alex and his team were waved through the checkpoint and escorted directly to the command center. Mid-level brass from several nations sat around a long table as Alex and Sam pushed through the doors. The rest of the HAWCs sprawled in chairs in the corridor, more than happy to let Alex and Sam do the political work.

Alex looked along the table — four men sitting, and one large, bearded older man, his face grim, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. He was first to speak.

‘Alex Hunter.’ It wasn’t a question.

Alex recognized the rank and came to attention. ‘General.’

‘General Aykut Bozlak Erdamir. At ease, Captain.’

Alex stood at ease with his big second-in-command behind him. The general pointed to some chairs, and the two HAWCs sat.

‘I understand you had the same success as we did at stopping Magera,’ Erdamir said. ‘And now it has disappeared.’

Alex nodded. ‘The sun came up, and it vanished. But it’s not gone — I could still sense it.’

‘Sense it?’ One of the soldiers in a blue uniform, his accent clipped British, frowned with disbelief. ‘Can you sense it now?’

Alex looked at the man, his own gaze flat and indifferent. The British officer reminded him of his own Captain Robert Graham, both from the physical appearance and also the way he carried the same sense of self-importance.

‘No.’ Alex turned away; he didn’t feel the need to explain.

The general placed a hand on the British man’s shoulder. ‘Major Mallory Butler, British Armed Forces.’ He indicated the men along the table. ‘Colonel Frank Harper, US Armed Forces; Major Thierry Galloen, French Armed Forces; and Colonel Abdullah Yilmaz, Turkish Defense Forces.’ Erdamir folded his arms and glared down at the British major. ‘And we all need to hear anything new that may assist us against this strange and formidable force that is fast approaching.’

‘Or already here,’ Alex said. ‘It was at the edge of the town when the sun’s rays struck it. I’m not sure it was destroyed or even hurt. Perhaps it changes its state during the day — maybe becomes more … benign, or goes into some sort of suspended animation.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m guessing. We know so little, because if you get close to it, you die.’

Erdamir clasped his hands behind his back and paced around the table. ‘Then we have four hours before the sun goes down. And then it may return … less benign.’

Mallory Butler tapped on the table. ‘It’s still basically following the old caravan trail along the Ankara Highway. Outside of Ulucak there’s three miles of empty space. We can set up a wall of fire that a roach couldn’t get through.’

Erdamir pursed his lips, making his moustache jut. ‘Major, this thing went through hundreds of rounds of armor-piercing ammunition, fragmentation grenades, thermobaric RPGs, and also physically ripped our men in half. I lost nearly all my best SFCs and their commander — a good man and one of my best.’ His voice trembled with suppressed rage. ‘Short of a nuke, what do you suggest?’

Butler looked down at his hands. ‘There are around 1000 personnel at this base. But there are over 4 million people in Izmir, and you estimate we have four hours. We can’t evacuate them all by sundown. And we can’t sit on our thumbs and hope it passes us by.’

‘Maybe we don’t have a choice.’ Erdamir sat down heavily.

Frank Harper leaned forward. ‘Hunter, is there anything you can remember that might give us an edge? Anything at all?’

‘Maybe the general is right,’ Alex said. ‘Maybe we don’t have a choice. It’s going to go through whatever we put in front of it, so … don’t put anything in front of it. My guess is, it’s heading somewhere.’

His mind whirled as he remembered the feeling of torment within the creature. But there was something else, like it had a purpose, or a plan.

Harper rubbed his chin. ‘Go on.’

‘We don’t need to evacuate the entire city,’ Alex said slowly. ‘Just leave a corridor.’

The general stood again and leaned forward onto the table, resting on his knuckles on the dark wood. ‘The weeping … you heard it?’

Alex nodded. ‘It seems to be more focused. Originally it was seeking out populations to feed on, but now it seems to be in a hurry. It’s only engaging when it’s engaged.’

‘Well, if it’s not coming here, where is it going?’ Butler asked.

Sam spoke for the first time. ‘It’s going to Crete.’

‘Good.’ The British major sat back and exhaled. ‘Very good.’

Harper got to his feet. ‘Like hell it is. That’s where the goddamn Seventh Fleet is right now. Gentlemen, I’ve got some calls to make.’ He saluted, and pushed out of the room.

Alex rubbed his chin and turned to Sam. ‘Makes sense. It’s trying to get home.’

Sam nodded. ‘We better get word to the colonel and Professor Kearns.’

‘And we need to get over there, fast.’ Alex got to his feet.

Erdamir walked over and placed a large hand on Alex’s shoulder. ‘We’ll impose a curfew from sundown, and evacuate a route to the waterfront. Good news is, once it leaves Turkey, it’s not our problem any more. Bad news is, the problem hasn’t gone away. It now belongs to the world.’

Borshov hunched over a small table in a house in the hills overlooking Izmir. The sea in the distance was an electric blue, and the city’s ancient minarets and Greek Orthodox churches rose above a plain of terracotta roofs and modern office blocks. The NATO base was tucked behind some hills to the south, and the gray steel of a ship’s bow could just be seen easing around the headland.

Borshov spoke into a cell phone that was dwarfed by his large hand. ‘We saw what this thing did to the Americans — it is unstoppable.’

He frowned as he listened, then shook his head. ‘I don’t know what it is, but I do know that the Americans have sent some scientists to Crete. They believe there is a way to either control or communicate with it. Maybe they find out in Crete, da?’

He looked out over the miles of houses, and grunted. ‘No, there is no more we can do here. We will go to Crete, and stay ahead of the HAWCs.’

He listened for another second or two, and his broad face broke into a grin. ‘Good. I knew this Graham would be helpful — both with the Arcadian treatment and access codes to their weapon archives. Send the package to Crete. I will collect it there. Now we will see who is the strongest.’

Borshov hung up, got to his feet, and stepped over the bodies of the house’s owners. ‘We move fast. A boat will meet us at main wharf in Alacati.’

He and his two remaining Spetsnaz jogged toward the sea.

Walter Gray whistled as he used a small and powerful mobile crane to load the crate onto a pallet. He pushed his clipboard under his arm and lifted the lid of the crate. Inside, carefully insulated, lay the top half of a metallic skeleton — gleaming steel armor plating, pistons, and wires. He checked the power pack, ticked off the items included, then sealed the crate back up.

He signed the release form under the twin signatures of General Marcus Chilton and Colonel Jack Hammerson — an urgent priority order.

‘Someone’s in a hurry,’ he said, then started whistling again as he wheeled the pallet into the silver elevator. Destination: Crete.

Mustafa Kamalak spat tobacco from his lip. His small wooden cottage was so close to the sea, he could hear the ripples as the waves washed the pebbled shore. He was a fisherman, the same as his father, and his father’s father before that. He hoped one day his sons might also be fishermen. But he had his doubts, given they were more interested in listening to music on those little boxes they had permanently plugged into their ears than spending six mornings a week hauling nets.

He sucked in a deep breath. He envied his boys their worlds of sound this night. Izmir hadn’t been so quiet after sundown since the end of the Greco — Turkish war in 1923. All the buildings along the central roadway to the coast had been evacuated. Those who remained in their homes were huddled inside, lights out. Mustafa kept his small radio playing, its volume down low, as he listened to the news updates. Something was crossing the country, devastating towns — a poisonous cloud of gas, a deadly germ, a devil, a djinn. No one knew, but everyone whispered. The army quarantined whole areas after it had passed through, and no one from within the affected zones was ever heard of again.

The voices on the radio speculated, using scientific terms Mustafa had no hope of understanding. But one thing was clear — they all sounded scared, which made him feel sick in his guts. His lips moved in prayer. He’d heard the old women talking about God punishing them all for turning their backs on the traditional ways, for embracing a modernity that was repellent to the pious. ‘It is our fault,’ they wailed.

The voices on the radio rose in pitch — the monster was now in the streets of Izmir.

Mustafa turned the radio down so low it was little more than the breathy whine of a mosquito. Then he heard it — another sound beginning to manifest. He turned toward the boarded window, and through its slats saw a tall shadow pass by. There was sound too — weeping, moaning, a jeremiad of despair.

The sound was so pitiful, Mustafa also began to weep. ‘May God save you,’ he whispered.

The shadow paused, and Mustafa felt his heartbeat in his throat. Move on, please move on, he prayed, crushing his eyes shut and holding his hands over his ears.