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It was clear that Hale didn't expect much from him. In a way that was better, since it meant he wouldn't need the type of supervision Nash couldn't provide.
Rather than dwell on his own lack of military expertise, the scientist chose to focus his thoughts on the mission. They were going to secure technology that would help the United States win the war.
And if they found what they expected to find, it wasn't just any any technology. Judging from what they could see of the downed craft, they hoped to scavenge what SRPA called "alpha artifacts," Chimeran equipment that would help the scientists in New Mexico unravel the secrets of nuclear fission, perhaps even fusion, thereby paving the way toward unbelievably powerful new weapons. technology. Judging from what they could see of the downed craft, they hoped to scavenge what SRPA called "alpha artifacts," Chimeran equipment that would help the scientists in New Mexico unravel the secrets of nuclear fission, perhaps even fusion, thereby paving the way toward unbelievably powerful new weapons.
Such were Nash's thoughts when he was startled out of his reverie by an unfamiliar voice that spoke to him via the plug in his ear.
"This is the pilot speaking ... We're five from dirt. Be sure to take everything with you, the obvious exceptions being women of ill repute, and any cases of Schlitz beer which may happen to be on board."
The announcement elicited laughter, a few catcalls, and some loud whistles, until Kawecki and Alvarez reined in their men, then ran through the checklist to make sure they were combat-ready. Having found everything to their liking, they reported to Hale.
"The first squad is ready, sir," Kawecki said crisply.
"Ditto Squad Two," Alvarez reported.
"Thank you, gentlemen," Hale replied. "Let's lock and load."
A series of clacking, clicking, and hissing sounds followed Hale's order as a variety of human and Chimeran weapons were readied for combat. They had been doled out to take advantage of each individual's skills and the team's need to cope with a wide variety of potential adversaries.
That thought weighed upon Nash as he checked the carbine he had propped, muzzle up, between his knees. Would he have to fire it? Would he even remember how? There hadn't been time for him to receive anything more than the most basic training. He lifted the weapon, worked a round into the chamber, but left the safety on as he put it down again.
Nash peered across the aisle at Hale, and thought he saw an almost imperceptible nod, the beginning of what could have been a smile. It might have been taken as a sign of condescension, but Nash didn't think it was meant that way. The other officer didn't seem to work like that. So he responded with a boyish grin.
Suddenly, for the first time, Nash felt like a member of the team. But his blood ran cold when he heard the pilot's next words.
"Uh-oh, it looks like the stinks got here first! The top of the b.u.t.te is swarming with Hybrids."
Nash released his harness and came up off his seat without really thinking about it. As the VTOL entered a wide sweeping turn, the starboard door gunner made room and Nash stuck his face into the frigid slipstream.
He could see the snow-covered b.u.t.te, the point where the aircraft had slammed into the rocky slope, and the large group of Chimera rappelling down to it as quickly as they could, given the conditions. The shuttle had come to rest in a spot that offered no easy access point. There was no sign of whatever aircraft had delivered them to the top of the b.u.t.te, but it seemed safe to a.s.sume they had one on call.
"Put us on the ground directly below the wreck," Nash instructed, and he was surprised by the certainty in his own voice. "Next to that cl.u.s.ter of trees."
Hale peered over Nash's shoulder and nodded. The VTOL couldn't land on top of the b.u.t.te, and it couldn't land on an incline, so the instructions made perfect sense. The problem being that the Chimera not only had the advantage of arriving first, but they currently held the high ground, which would allow them to fire down on the Sentinels with near impunity.
But it couldn't be helped, Nash realized, as the Chimera opened fire on the VTOL. They sent long strings of tracers up in the attempt to find the aircraft and bring it down.
Meanwhile, the pilot was dropping toward the landing site. Projectiles began to ping ping and and bang bang off the fuselage as the VTOL's engines went vertical and it fell into place. All of the Sentinels had released themselves from their harnesses by that time-and hurried to disembark the moment they felt the landing gear hit solid ground. Kawecki was there to urge them on. "What the h.e.l.l are you waiting for?" the NCO bellowed. "A frigging off the fuselage as the VTOL's engines went vertical and it fell into place. All of the Sentinels had released themselves from their harnesses by that time-and hurried to disembark the moment they felt the landing gear hit solid ground. Kawecki was there to urge them on. "What the h.e.l.l are you waiting for?" the NCO bellowed. "A frigging invitation? invitation? Let's get off this bucket of bolts and find some cover." Let's get off this bucket of bolts and find some cover."
Nash was about to follow the rest of the team out onto the frozen landscape when he suddenly realized that he couldn't move. His legs knew what they should should be doing, but it didn't matter. They refused to obey his commands. be doing, but it didn't matter. They refused to obey his commands.
He watched helplessly as the men just ignored him and pa.s.sed him by. As the last one exited, a Chimeran projectile slammed through the VTOL's skin and pa.s.sed within an inch of Nash's nose. That scared him even more, enough to start his feet moving, and get him out the door.
But not before he had grabbed a heavy duffel and thrust it out ahead of him.
Hale was one of the first troops through the door. He crouched and took a quick look around as projectiles kicked up geysers of dirt around him. Spotting a cl.u.s.ter of trees, he gestured to the men. "Over there!" he shouted, pointing to the tightly bunched evergreens. "Take cover!"
One member of the team, a private named Lang, took a hit, and was half carried, half dragged into the relative safety of the trees. A medic immediately went to work on a leg wound that had already begun to heal.
Hale was about to make a dash for the trees when he saw Nash throw a bag out of the VTOL's cargo compartment. Instead of being one of the first off the plane Nash was the last to leave, and Hale swore angrily as he ran over to grab the heavy bag and escort his commanding officer to the cl.u.s.ter of trees.
Engines roared, and the Boop's Boop's propellers created a momentary blizzard as the ship lifted off. propellers created a momentary blizzard as the ship lifted off.
"Let me know when the fun is over," the pilot said in his ear, "and I'll come back to get you." Then with a tilt of its engines, the VTOL was gone.
Hale and Nash finished their sprint to the trees. By then the rest of the team was busy setting up defensive positions.
"What's in this thing, anyway?" Hale demanded, dropping the bag next to Nash. "A load of rocks?"
He didn't bother with the honorific "sir," but Nash didn't seem to notice. Rather than correct Hale, he chose to answer the question. "Tools," he replied. "Chimeran tools. If we find something valuable we'll have to disconnect whatever it is from the shuttle, and as quickly as we can."
That made sense, Hale thought, and he felt stupid for asking, but pushed the thought aside and a.s.sessed the situation.
The wreck was about eight hundred feet above them. The Chimera were d.a.m.ned near on top of it, and pretty well in charge. There was a loud crack crack as a large-caliber projectile hit the tree Hale was standing next to, spraying him with splinters of wood and showering him with snow. "Sergeant Kawecki ... Sergeant Alvarez," Hale said, using the radio now. "Let's put those Fareyes to work. Or do you as a large-caliber projectile hit the tree Hale was standing next to, spraying him with splinters of wood and showering him with snow. "Sergeant Kawecki ... Sergeant Alvarez," Hale said, using the radio now. "Let's put those Fareyes to work. Or do you like like being shot at?" being shot at?"
That produced some chuckles, and the team's best marksmen went to work. Within moments the enemy barrage was being countered by the steady crack, crack, crack crack, crack, crack of outgoing sniper fire. of outgoing sniper fire.
Hale went forward to get a better look at the b.u.t.te, and Nash followed. Once there Hale discovered a long line of boulders that marked the bottom of a scree-covered slope and offered good concealment. Bringing his binoculars up to his eyes, he followed the slope up to the wreck and its debris field. Already half a dozen dead Chimera lay sprawled on the bloodied snow. The surviving Hybrids had taken cover by then, but every now and then one of them would pop up to take a pot shot at the humans, and most paid a high price for their audacity.
"So," Nash said, from his position next to Hale's right elbow. "You have experience at this sort of thing ... What do you think we should do?"
Hale bristled at the question because Nash was wearing the railroad tracks, and it was tempting to force him to lead. But that would be suicide, and there were the men to think of, not to mention the mission, so he chose his words with care.
"I don't think we have much choice," he said deliberately. "It looks like we'll have to fight our way uphill. It won't be easy though-and we're going to take a lot of casualties."
Nash flinched as a stray projectile hit one of the rocks and made a zinging sound as it whipped past his ear.
"You know best of course," he said, lowering his own binoculars. "But there might be another way."
"Really?" Hale said sarcastically. "And what would that be?"
Nash's eye twiched spastically and he battled to keep his voice steady.
"You've seen the wreck, Lieutenant ... It's sitting on a bed of snow-covered scree. The snow is slippery, as are all those chunks of loose granite, which could work in our favor. What if you had the men fire those LAARK things at a point immediately below below the wreck? That could precipitate a landslide which would bring the remains of the shuttle at least halfway down the slope." the wreck? That could precipitate a landslide which would bring the remains of the shuttle at least halfway down the slope."
Hale just stared at him. There was a moment of silence, broken only by the intermittent crack crack of a sniper rifle-and the occasional of a sniper rifle-and the occasional ping ping of an incoming projectile. He wrestled with the idea for a full five seconds. "It seems like a long shot, sir," he said tentatively, "but it's worth a try." of an incoming projectile. He wrestled with the idea for a full five seconds. "It seems like a long shot, sir," he said tentatively, "but it's worth a try."
Nash smiled weakly as another involuntary muscle contraction caused him to wink. I wish he'd stop that I wish he'd stop that, Hale thought.
"Good ... I'm glad you think so."
The team was equipped with two L209 LAARK rocket launchers. It took the better part of ten minutes to collect the soldiers who were in possession of the weapons, position them at the foot of the slide area, and give them their instructions. It was snowing more heavily by then, which made the already misty crash site even more difficult to see, so Hale felt a sense of urgency as he knelt between the men.
"Aim for a spot fifteen feet below below the wreck," he told them, "and fire on the count of three. Once the first rockets are on the way, reload quickly-and prepare to fire again. But don't do it unless I say so. Got it?" the wreck," he told them, "and fire on the count of three. Once the first rockets are on the way, reload quickly-and prepare to fire again. But don't do it unless I say so. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," both soldiers responded, their voices overlapping.
"Good," Hale said. "Now acquire your targets ... Tell me when you're ready."
About ten seconds pa.s.sed as both men took careful aim.
"Ready, sir," the one on the left said, quickly echoed by the soldier to the right.
"On the count of three, then," Hale said. "One, two, and three." three."
There was a loud whoosh whoosh, followed by another just a fraction of a second later, as two rockets sped uphill. Moments later they struck the slope. Twin explosions produced what sounded like a single boom boom, geysers of snow and pulverized rock shot up into the air, and Nash felt the resulting vibration through the soles of his boots.
But once the smoke cleared the scene was unchanged.
Hale glanced at Nash, saw the look of uncertainty on his face, and turned back again.
"Let's try again," he said levelly. Both men had already reloaded. "Same spot as before-on the count of three. One, two, and three!" three!"
There was another stereo whoosh whoosh as two more rockets roared away, followed by overlapping explosions. But this time Hale heard another sound as well. as two more rockets roared away, followed by overlapping explosions. But this time Hale heard another sound as well.
It began with a throaty rumble, followed by the clatter clatter of loose rock, which increased to a m.u.f.fled roar as the entire hillside began to move. And not just the hillside, but the Chimeran wreck as well, which was beginning to edge downhill. Metal screeched, rocks exploded as additional weight bore down and pulverized them. of loose rock, which increased to a m.u.f.fled roar as the entire hillside began to move. And not just the hillside, but the Chimeran wreck as well, which was beginning to edge downhill. Metal screeched, rocks exploded as additional weight bore down and pulverized them.
A reedy cheer went up from the Sentinels when their objective came down as if to meet them.
Hale lifted his gla.s.ses to watch the shuttle's progress, and was just in time to spot one of the Hybrids who had been hiding in the rocks downslope from the wreck. The creature popped up and tried to run, but seconds later it threw its hands into the air and mouthed a silent scream as it disappeared under the advancing beetle-shaped wreck. Instantly it was lost from sight altogether.
Hale turned toward Nash and saw a wide grin spread across the officer's face. Involuntarily, he grinned back.
"We need to hurry, sir," he said quickly. "Your plan took the stinks by surprise, but it won't take them long to recover. I suggest that you board the shuttle as quickly as possible. I'll send Private Unver along to provide security and carry your tools.
"Thirty minutes, sir ... That's the most I can give you ... So make them count."
The rock slide had stalled by then, and while the wreck hadn't slid all the way down the hill, it was at least four hundred feet closer. Nash could have taken offense to the way in which Hale had given him orders but knew the other officer was correct. "Thank you, Lieutenant," Nash replied. "I'll get right to work."
Hale briefed Unver, and sent both men scrambling uphill, then turned his attention to Kawecki and Alvarez. They placed some of their men in strategic positions just below the wreck, where Chimeran projectiles couldn't reach them.
"Kawecki ... take First Squad, and half of Second uphill, past the wreck, and prepare a primary position plus two fallbacks. I don't expect you to kill every Chimera on the b.u.t.te. Just slow the freaks down. Once you fall back to the third position, the one immediately above the wreck, be sure to pull Nash out." Kawecki nodded, his features set.
"As for you," Hale said as he turned to Alvarez, "I want you to take four of your men down to secure the back door and guard the LZ. Be ready to provide covering fire for Kawecki and his people as they pull out. Questions?"
"How bout some command-detonated mines, sir?" Kawecki asked. "We could place them upslope from position one."
"Good idea," Hale said approvingly. "That'll give the Hybrids something to think about as they come down. Don't blow more than one at a time though ... We don't want another landslide.
"Anything else?
"No? Then let's do this thing."
The shuttle was roughly the size of two city buses sitting side by side, and had come to rest nose down-or was it tail down? The badly battered hull was shimmery black, boasting knifelike wing extensions and protrusions that were unlike any aircraft Private Mike Unver had ever seen before.
More important, given the nature of the a.s.signment, the gull-wing-style main hatch was open and apparently unguarded. But Unver knew that the wreck had been home to half a dozen Chimera not an hour earlier, so he entered first, his Bullseye a.s.sault rifle at the ready. Take care of Captain Nash Take care of Captain Nash. Those were the orders Lieutenant Hale had given the Sentinel, and Unver was determined to do his best.
The main power was clearly off, but judging from some glow panels and dozens of indicator lights, some sort of backup system had kicked in. So it was dark and gloomy, but not pitch black, as Unver turned to his right and climbed a steeply sloping deck.
The tiny control compartment was about a third of the way back from the badly crushed bow. It consisted of a control panel and two chairs-both of which were occupied by dead Hybrids. Or that's how it appeared anyway. But Unver knew better than to make a.s.sumptions, so he shot each pilot in the back of the head, just to make sure. A mixture of blood and brains splattered the instrument panel.
"Unver?" Nash inquired over the radio. "Are you okay?" He was still crouched outside.
"I'm fine, sir," Unver replied. "Just tidying up, that's all. Let me check the stern. Then you can board."
Two minutes later, having carried out a quick check of the small cargo area in the ship's stern, Unver returned to the main hatch.
"Everything's okay," he said confidently, and he gestured to the captain. "Come on in." The Chimera had recovered from the initial shock of having the ship slide out from under them by that time, and they were streaming down the b.u.t.te. Fareyes cracked as Kawecki's group engaged them, and the aliens fired back.
But such was Nash's eagerness to enter the shuttle and see what lay within that he forgot his fear. He pushed the tool bag onto a scimitar-shaped section of wing, placed his foot on a support strut, and hoisted himself up. Unver was there to grab the tools and give him a hand. From there it was only a few steps to the open hatch.
The first step, according to protocol, was to carry out a quick inspection of the so-called setting before zeroing in on specific items or groups of items. That procedure was intended to make sure field investigators didn't become so enamored of a particular object that they missed something that might be of even more importance.
In order to carry out the initial survey, Nash had to call upon carefully memorized images of the Chimeran tech that had already been captured, evaluated, and in some cases reverse-engineered. He saw several things he recognized, but the whole point of a SAR mission was to find new new tech. As Nash made his way forward he saw very little to get excited about, and disappointment began to seep in. tech. As Nash made his way forward he saw very little to get excited about, and disappointment began to seep in.
The blood-drenched scene in the control compartment made his stomach lurch, and he might have thrown up had he been able to get anything down earlier that morning. But Nash forced himself to stand behind the pilots and scan the instrument panel to make sure it matched the photos he'd seen. Everything appeared to be normal. So he left the Chimeran c.o.c.kpit and kept his eyes peeled as he made his way back to the stern.
When he arrived in the small cargo area aft of the main hatch, he spotted a case that was secured to ring bolts set into the deck. Not recognizing the design of the case, he was curious as to what might be inside. Leaning his carbine against the bulkhead, Nash knelt next to the box, undid a series of latches, and lifted the lid.
Light splashed the officer's face. His eyes went round, and his heart began to beat faster. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
The Chimera had taken casualties, heavy heavy casualties, but they'd still managed to push what remained of First Squad into position two. And Hale was worried. Not just because of the snarling Hybrids-who fought as if possessed-but due to the fact that something even more dangerous was prowling the battlefield. Something so stealthy that two of his Sentinels had been decapitated without anyone seeing what had killed them. casualties, but they'd still managed to push what remained of First Squad into position two. And Hale was worried. Not just because of the snarling Hybrids-who fought as if possessed-but due to the fact that something even more dangerous was prowling the battlefield. Something so stealthy that two of his Sentinels had been decapitated without anyone seeing what had killed them.
Sergeant Kawecki had made the gruesome discoveries. But rather than broadcast the news to the entire team, he'd made it his business to tell Hale face-to-face, mikes off. Based on the evidence, it appeared as though a Chameleon was stalking the Sentinels.
And that was bad news indeed. Hale glanced around involuntarily.
Chameleons were ugly brutes with heads set low between their ma.s.sive shoulders, and long claw-tipped arms. That was bad enough, but what made the creatures worse were the high-tech field generators they wore on their backs. Machines capable of rendering the Chameleons invisible. This capability was dangerous in and of itself, and it had a profound psychological impact as well. Because soldiers who worried about what might be standing immediately behind them had a tendency to fire at shadows.
So as Kawecki went about keeping the level of outgoing fire up, Hale readied the Rossmore and followed a set of large footprints that led away from the blood-splattered boulder where Laraby had been decapitated. Even though the Chameleon could make itself invisible, it still had ma.s.s, and couldn't hide its tracks.
The trail led downhill, past the point where Laraby's head had come to rest, toward the shuttle. It would have been nice to have a couple of Sentinels with him, but they were needed on the hillside, which left Hale to track the Chameleon alone.
He felt something heavy land in the bottom of his stomach as he rounded the shuttle's badly crushed bow, and spotted the body that lay on top of a blood-splattered wing. Bullets pinged pinged off the ship's hull as he climbed up onto the flat surface and knelt next to Unver. Judging from appearances, the private had been standing with his back to the hatch, sucking the aerosolized serum commonly referred to as I-Gas through his mouth piece, when the Chameleon ripped his abdomen open. At least a yard of purplish intestine had spilled out through the wicked gash, yet judging from the vapor that issued from his nostrils, the Sentinel was still alive. off the ship's hull as he climbed up onto the flat surface and knelt next to Unver. Judging from appearances, the private had been standing with his back to the hatch, sucking the aerosolized serum commonly referred to as I-Gas through his mouth piece, when the Chameleon ripped his abdomen open. At least a yard of purplish intestine had spilled out through the wicked gash, yet judging from the vapor that issued from his nostrils, the Sentinel was still alive.
Hale switched his radio from the team freq to the command channel.
"Alvarez! I'm on the shuttle. Unver is down by the main hatch. Send two men to bring him out, and alert the medic. Tell them to keep their eyes peeled ... We have a Chameleon on the loose."
Nash was on his knees with his back to the main hatch when he heard what sounded like a sc.r.a.ping footstep. "Unver? Come here ... There's something I want to show you."
After a couple of seconds without a response, Nash swiveled toward the hatch, wondering if he had imagined the footfall. The sounds of fighting were coming closer-so close that the Chimeran projectiles sounded like hail as they rattled against the hull. He had been distracted up until then, fascinated by the object in the box, and oblivious to the situation around him.