Beneath the Dark Ice (10 page)

Borshov and his men had also been travelling for two days without stop. First in supersonic jumps across the Middle East, Libya and Nigeria, crossing the Atlantic and then on to scream down the coast of Argentina. The Russian Sukhoi S21 was carbonyl ferrite coated and had achieved speeds of mach-one without showing once on any watching radar. The Krofskoya agents transferred at Ushuaia on the Argentinean horn to a waiting Kamkov helicopter. Its 1,300-horsepower Rybinsk powerplant pushed it through the freezing air at 220 miles per hour. The young pilot, just skimming the waves, had turned to Borshov and complained that he was pushing the limits of the sleek helicopter’s range when the giant Russian had walked to the cockpit and lifted the young man’s communication headpiece. He whispered something into his ear before retaking his seat—the young pilot didn’t complain anymore; he didn’t even turn to look when he unloaded them onto the snow.

From his scope, Borshov saw that the Americans had set up camp at the base of the south wall and were just setting off down into the southern tunnel. He also detected one man was being left behind to anchor the base camp; by his size and the way he moved it seemed he was no scientist. If they were with Alex Hunter then they must
be at least SEALs, or worse, HAWCs. This man had to be neutralised before they could proceed.

Borshov knew that the helicopter would wait for them at the abandoned Russian research base at Leningradskaya. He didn’t care; all that mattered now was Alex Hunter and the mission. Nothing would be recognisable when he left. He’d give the Americans a few minutes to get farther into the tunnels and then commence his operation.

The creature could sense more of the little warm bloods slowly approaching and had tasted them again recently. They were small but once again there were enough of them to nourish it. It was the largest of its kind and had seen many millennia in its warm, deep sea below the ice. The little animals could be mimicked easily but their sounds were still too complex to copy. It reached forward to taste them once more.

Benson’s orders were uncomplicated—to ensure the team had a fast and clear path of extraction if needed. He quickly checked the SINCGARS radio unit was operational. The small but powerful communication system used LPI, Low Probability of Intercept technology, to obstruct unauthorised transmission intrusion. By using automatic signal hopping, it changed its frequency hundreds of times per second during transmission, making it virtually impossible to intercept a signal. The HAWCs’ headpiece units were not powerful enough to communicate directly with command so they were relayed to Benson’s unit which pushed them up and out of the cave to another relay point in southern Australia. Satisfied, Benson pulled the flap down over the small box to blanket its winking lights.

He switched off all the camp lighting, unfolded his blackout cloth and covered himself. The cloth absorbed light and broke up the telltale human shape. He did not move, he became part of the cave’s natural debris. He had selected a position with his back to the west wall where he had all compass quadrants covered. Just his eyes and gun muzzle peered out from the cloth. In all his years of elite soldiering he had never made a mistake, even when he was captured in Afghanistan and tortured for three days. They had chopped off his fingers, slice by slice, and he never talked, never wavered. In this business, one mistake
was all that was needed to make the difference between life and death.

The Russian moved around the gaping hole to the eastern edge. He unfolded his Dragunov SVDS sniper rifle. This version, with its shortened barrel, flash suppressor and polymer structure was his weapon of choice for distance killing. He clipped the silencer into place. The newer, Russian-designed silencers used baffle chambers to shift the frequency of the sound beyond the range of human hearing; it provided an almost soundless kill—less enjoyment for the big assassin, but a necessity when silence was critical to an operation.

Benson’s sixth sense was tingling and he switched to night vision. He was being watched, but from where? He rapidly scanned in an arc around his perimeter, then quickly turned his face towards the ceiling.

The glass-tipped bullet entered his forehead directly above and between his eyes. On entry the bullet tip was designed to shear away; it had done its job of maintaining the projectile’s aerodynamics, the remaining slug was effectively a hollow point, broadening inside the skull cavity and turning his brain to soup. Benson fell forward—he had ceased to exist.

Uli Borshov circled his hand in the air once. The other two Krofskoya agents broke from their concealed positions in the snow and the three of them raced to the drop winch.

As the Americans would say, time to join the party.

With his HAWCs spread around the scientists, Alex should have felt a degree of security for his charges. However, his earlier unsettled feeling hadn’t abated and in fact
was growing stronger. He also couldn’t shake the sensation that they were being watched, or somehow followed.

Moving away from the column of light the team now entered complete dark and from over Alex’s shoulders the scientists’ torch beams created pipes of light that waved in all directions. It gave him a chance to scrutinise his surroundings; for the most part the massive tunnel they were in was featureless, with few of the formations you would expect in a large, ancient cave system. The walls, floor and ceilings were smoothed, perhaps as Monica said by ice or water, but it still looked unnatural. Even Alex could feel the weight of the silence; if not for the multiple footfalls you might have heard your own heartbeat. Alex could hear that no one was breathing particularly hard as the clear slope was angling downward. The major surprise for Alex was the temperature—the more they trekked, the warmer it became.

After hiking steadily for sixty minutes, Alex called a ten-minute rest break. He ordered Johnson to scout ahead for five minutes and then report back in. Johnson acknowledged the order with a brief “affirmative,” switched to night scope vision, and disappeared into the still darkness.

From behind Alex, Adrian Silex said in his whining, nasal tone, “I don’t get it, one moment it seems we have air pockets under us, the next we have water. I can’t understand how Dr. Hendsen ever received a positive reading unless it was somewhere much deeper than here. If we don’t find a testing base site that is on geologically stable ground I won’t be able to receive a clear reading and we will have wasted our time. Captain, can you please organise for us to continue onward a bit more quickly?”

Borshov spent time going over Benson’s equipment and caving suit. He needed to know what the American HAWCs had brought with them and what he would be dealing with.
He held up Benson’s M98 and sighted along the barrel. He secreted it among some rocks—a little insurance was a good thing, he thought. The other two Russian assassins wasted little time in destroying communications equipment and anything else that could aid the American team. They looked like three large alien insects in their black head-to-toe infiltration suits. Down in the darkened cave, even their faces were covered with the single lens of the Generation-III cyclops night vision scope extending outwards from their brows. They moved quickly but surely to catch up with the American team.

Borshov looked forward to meeting his old friend again, and seeing if this time his thick American head could hold one of the exploding bullets he was saving.

Alex’s comm unit pinged as Johnson out at point reported in. “All clear so far, however the slope is deepening to an incline of about thirty degrees. No sign of the Hendsen party other than the footprints—they just keep heading on into the cave depths.”

Alex couldn’t help thinking aloud. “Where the hell were they all going? OK, roger that; hold your position, we’re coming down. Be with you in about seven minutes.”

Johnson found an alcove in the cave wall and folded himself in. His training dictated that on field operations you leave as little of your body exposed and undefended as possible.

From the cave depths there was a soft watery sound. Johnson’s head whipped around and he strained to hear more. Even with his senses tuned and his electronic equipment at their maximum settings no movement or heat shapes could be detected. He quickly scanned his perimeter and when he turned back to the cave ahead he could now just make out a vaguely human shape about a hundred feet farther in. He remained silent and immobile, even his breathing slowed. The shape moved closer to Johnson’s position in a gliding, oily motion.

When the shape was only about twenty feet away Johnson could make out it was a man, but he looked oily or wet; almost like he was covered in mucous or something slick. As the figure came still closer, he could also now see he was dressed in the clothes of the previous rescue party. Johnson adjusted the magnification on his night scope and could make out the name tag: Hendsen.

“Dr. Hendsen, sir, are you all right?”

Hendsen didn’t acknowledge him. However, he did seem to move a little closer. Might be in shock or disorientated,
he thought. Johnson stood up slowly and walked carefully sideways towards the figure of Hendsen; as he did so he pinged his comm unit and reported in.

“Boss, I got a survivor here—looks to be Dr. Tom Hendsen but he looks kind of strange.”

Alex’s senses went into overdrive, he turned away and so as not to alert the rest of the scientific team said as quietly, and forcefully as he could manage, “Johnson, you will hold your position. Do not interact with or approach survivor. Is that clear?”

As Johnson was about to confirm his last order, he took a single step back towards cover. His movement triggered an explosion of activity in the Tom Hendsen shape. It leaped forward as if on a spring and smashed into Johnson front-on with a wet smacking sound that echoed back down into the cavern. Johnson felt the juddering impact but was less dazed than he expected to be. Hendsen was an average-sized man and he thought he should have at least been knocked off his feet by the collision. However the mass that struck him was softer than it had a right to be and he found himself held upright and actually glued in place. He reached up with his free hand to push himself away but this too sank into the mass and became stuck.

The acrid chemical smell was making his eyes water and he noticed a thick, fleshy cord extending from the thing’s back and away into the cave depths. His comm unit pinged urgently for attention, but he had no chance of responding as even his face was now adhered to the Tom Hendsen shape. The final agony came as several dagger-like tusks extended from the shape and pierced his body. His last coherent thought was of the running footprints, the dragging, the missing bodies; suddenly it all came together.

Johnson managed a single muffled scream as he was
roughly yanked off his feet and dragged struggling into the depths of the cave.

Alex’s heightened senses were screaming at him. He was learning to use his extraordinary capabilities to pick up a person’s presence when they were in his proximity; and a few seconds ago he could “feel” Johnson out at point. But now . . . gone.

“Johnson, report in.” Nothing. “Report in, Lieutenant!” Just static. Nothing.

“Mike, Tank, with me. Takeda, keep the group together and move them slowly up behind us. I don’t want any stragglers.” The HAWCs sprinted off into the darkness.

In a few minutes, Alex had found the last position of Lieutenant John Johnson. A few seconds later Mike and then Tank caught up and joined him. Though Alex slowed the last dozen paces to approach with caution, no one on the team could hope to keep pace with him when he opened it up. “Tank, eyes forward and cover.” Tank nodded and trotted silently further into the cave depths. He had switched to stealth mode so to anyone other than another HAWC he was virtually invisible.

Alex and Mike crouched down and switched on their helmet lamps. The ground showed a single pair of HAWC footprints moving to an area of major ground disturbance. However, this was fairly vague as there was still roughly another dozen sets of footsteps and drag marks from the Hendsen party continuing on into the darkness.

“Contact was made here, a struggle, then nothing.” Alex stood up.

Mike looked around and said to Alex, “No blood, no debris; do you think the Hendsen team took him?”

Alex looked at Mike. “Taken a solider like Johnson, in just seconds, with all his skill and firepower? No way; he’d have taken them apart.”

Alex looked back down into the darkness. “Do you smell that?” There was the lingering smell of ammonia in the air. Alex went on. “No. He was ambushed and taken by someone or something unexpected and overwhelming.” Alex spoke to Mike and Tank who had again joined them, and he also voiced-in Takeda via his comm unit. “Soldiers, we are not alone. Prepare to go hot.”

The two teams joined up and Takeda mentioned that the SINCGARS relay module must have been resetting as the line to the surface had dropped out. Alex immediately tried Benson but received no response. A knot formed in his stomach. With tons of rock, and magnetic interference between them and topside he knew losing transmission was to be expected. Still . . .

Alex stood for a moment, looking up at the dark rock above them, as if trying to see through the layers of limestone and miles of cave. He was tempted to drag them all out, but he had no information to cause him to think Benson was in trouble. He had to assume he was OK and therefore his priority was to find Johnson. Alex didn’t think he had disappeared due to an accidental fall; if he found proof it was a hostile intervention, he’d decide then whether to withdraw or engage. Alex felt a flame light inside him; his senses amplified and the hand on the stock of his gun squeezed until a small popping could be heard from the toughened polymer compound. Not now, he thought to himself; he closed his eyes and smelled green apples until the flame subsided.