Dark Rising (24 page)

She looked at his jawline, and then his mouth. An image formed and she looked away quickly, and put a hand over her own mouth to hide her smile. She had seen herself kissing him.

They stopped next to a large rock, and Alex took his glove off to lay his hand on its flat surface. To Adira it probably looked like he was testing the stone for residual warmth in the cool night air; in fact, he was feeling for vibrations. He didn’t plan on hanging around here long enough to plant more seismic monitors, but he still didn’t want anything tunnelling up into their camp.

Adira sat back against the rock and turned her head up to see his face. ‘So what does Captain Alex Hunter, codenamed “Arcadian”, do with himself when he’s not saving the world on the other side of the planet?’

Her smile was disarming and Alex was sure it had made fools of many men before. He still found it hard to believe she was a lethal Mossad agent with quite a few kills on her sheet. He ignored the Arcadian fishing expedition and decided to play along.

‘Right now, I miss clear blue water and lying on a white sandy beach.’ He drew in a deep breath as if to inhale the images that were forming in his mind. Just saying the words out loud made him think of sun-dried shorts, sand up to his ankles, the feeling of slight sunburn and a crusting of salt on his shoulders. For a moment, he could almost see the beach towels hanging over a wooden porch railing to dry.

‘Plenty of sand here, Alex.’ She grinned at him. ‘If you hadn’t noticed, we have truckloads of it in the Middle East. Now let me see, there’s no ring on your finger – anyone lying on the beach waiting for you at home?’ She raised her eyebrows.

‘Once, but not anymore – too many missions, too many nightmares. Makes it hard to sustain a relationship, let alone talk about long-term plans, when you can’t even promise to come back from the next project.’ His face turned stony and he changed the subject. ‘Come on now, your turn. Tell me about Adira Senesh, brilliant young Mossad torpedo.’

She put her hands on her hips. ‘Torpedo? Hah, I thought I had a little more shape than that. Well, let’s see, I do competitive archery some weekends, and I’m a member of the Tel Aviv shooting club.’

‘Rifles?’

‘No, twenty-two calibre target pistols. I could have competed at the Olympics, but my career with Mossad overtook everything.’ She was quiet for a moment, then cocked her head slightly at a thought. ‘I like horse riding.’ She looked at him quickly as though to check he wasn’t about to make fun of her. When Alex didn’t, she went on. ‘I have a horse called Vulcan, he’s an Appaloosa. I ride him along the water’s edge at the Sea of Galilee, or sometimes up to the views of the Golan Heights. Do you ride, Alex?’ She leaned across and looked into his face. Her brows were knitted, as though the question was the most important he would answer today.

‘Yes, but not as much as I’d like to. Hey, running, horse riding, archery, shooting – not much of an action girl, are you?’ He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

He saw her lips part to say something else when the subsonic scream rang out again – closer this time. Alex turned away and gritted his teeth, trying to focus on its whereabouts. This time he could tell it wasn’t coming from a mechanical device due to the organic rise and fall in the modulation. It wasn’t just a random screech either, it was a call – too crude to be called a language, but definitely something trying to communicate across the dark landscape.

This mission had long moved past being weird; now it was starting to get damn creepy. Alex watched the dark desert for a moment or two then looked up at the stars. He checked his watch and pulled his glove back on. He had to get them moving again.

‘Time to get going, Ms Senesh.’

‘Call me Addy.’

‘Okay, time to saddle up, Addy.’

The creature stopped once again to sample the air. The gamma particles in the slight breeze drew it along an invisible path. It had felt again the tingling warmth of the radiation and remembered its own world – the warmth, the humidity, and its own kind.

It climbed a small mound and raised itself up – a massive column of razor claws and armour plating, silent and still as the trunk of a mighty tree. Both eyestalks swivelled and the three bulbs in each focused on the distance. Its eyes searched the horizon and found tiny flaring dots moving across the sand – infrared images of warm bodies.

Its mandibles opened and closed with a sticky viscous sound and it dropped back to the sand. Hunger was gnawing once again at its core.

It increased its pace to catch up with the small moving figures.

THIRTY-THREE

T
he HAWCs reached the cave at about three in the morning. From their position, crouching at the base of an old rock fall, they could detect no movement, thermal presence or any sound coming from the cave.

Alex went alone to stand in the enormous mouth of the ancient cave. The primitive smell of the tunnel ahead threatened to overwhelm him, and though he couldn’t discern any threats to his team, he found it difficult to take another step forward. He’d lost an entire team of HAWCs in a cold dark maze below the Antarctic and it still haunted his dreams. He’d never suffered from claustrophobia before, but the idea of entering another cave system was making him feel tense and uneasy.

Alex shook his head as if throwing off beads of cold water, then took one step, and another. Limestone coolness flowed from the tunnel’s depths and he knew there must be a vast labyrinth deep in the mountain. He stopped and marvelled at the giant statue standing guard at the entrance: a colossal, scowling warrior holding a sword as tall as a man.

Adira came and stood beside him. ‘Shapur the Great – a warrior king and the mightiest of the Sassanid rulers. He brought wisdom and peace for his entire rule. His statue has stood guard over Arak and this land for nearly two thousand years.’

‘We could do with a few more leaders like that today,’ Alex said. ‘Let’s get inside; we can rest for a while.’ He turned to the group. ‘Irish, you and I will take first watch outside. Sam, Rocky, you’re up next. Ms Senesh and Dr Shomron, please get some rest as you’ll be needed to guide us into the facilities.’

Alex saw O’Riordan stare at him for a moment, then blink and turn away.
Looking forward to that, aren’t you, buddy?
he thought.

He’d purposely chosen O’Riordan to do the first watch with him. He figured Irish must have been affected by what happened to Hex – who wouldn’t be – but the man needed to put it aside, and, if he had any residual anger, channel it into his mission. Everyone dealt with loss or failure in a different way. He’d heard Irish’s comments about Hex – blaming others was a weak but standard defensive mechanism that kept the blamer’s ego and reputation intact. Still, that didn’t mean that person couldn’t learn from the experience. For the last few hours, Irish had seemed withdrawn. Alex wanted this one-on-one time to see if he could open him up a little.

They took a position just twenty feet from the mouth of the cave that provided an unbroken view over the Markazi Plains. They sat with their backs to a sheer rock face that rose a hundred feet into the air. Alex broke off a piece of hard tack and handed it to the redheaded HAWC, who shook his head. Alex popped the tack into his own mouth; he lived on the stuff while on missions – it was lightweight and provided him with concentrated protein. His supercharged metabolism burned up protein twice as fast as a normal man’s did, and he often lost several pounds on a mission. He needed his fuel.

‘So, enjoying the new squad, Lieutenant?’

‘Has its moments,’ O’Riordan said and turned away, signalling a distinct lack of interest in the conversation.

Alex could tell there was something burning inside the man and he was determined to draw it out before they entered a potential conflict zone. ‘Oh yeah, you got that right,’ he said. ‘Lieutenant Winters certainly had his moment. What do you think he’d want to say to you if he was here now?’

The question took O’Riordan by surprise. He looked briefly at Alex and then skywards for a few seconds before shaking his head.

Alex pressed him. ‘Think he might have some advice for you? Want to tell you something? Come on, Irish, use your imagination. What would your team leader want to say to his point man after being tied to a chair, tortured and then burned alive?’

O’Riordan was still shaking his head, as if to distance himself from the other HAWC’s savage death. His teeth were clamped shut, but suddenly they sprang open and a string of obscenities spewed out. Eventually O’Riordan got himself under control and answered the question. ‘He’d fuckin’ say, “You got me killed!” But I didn’t – that asshole committed suicide the moment
he
walked
us
into the trap.’ He threw a handful of pebbles and scree out into the desert and folded his arms, still muttering curses to himself.

Alex studied the man. He could tell that Irish didn’t believe it was Hex’s own fault he’d got killed; it was just that he didn’t believe he was to blame either. ‘Okay, tell me what happened, soldier. I wasn’t there.’

O’Riordan described the ambush, laying all the blame squarely at Hex Winter’s feet. He reckoned they should have had two out at point, or at least a man at long point, given they knew there were hostiles in the vicinity. Besides, what good was a man out at point when they got hit from behind at the same time? Hex should have had them
all
monitoring their electronics in the dark rather than relying on their own senses. They knew there were Takavaran squads spread out in the desert, and they’d managed to find not one but two.

‘Look, Captain, Hex paid the price for his mistake and it was fuckin’ bad luck, but we all coulda been wiped out. Sorry, but that’s it.’

Alex kept his expression unreadable as he listened. He knew that if he asked Rocky Lagudi or Adira for their take on events, he’d get a different version, but then they hadn’t been out at point. In Alex’s experience, an effective ambush meant maintaining maximum concealment to allow the point man to walk his team into the prime killing zone, then to open the box and rain hell on them all. Why kill one when you could kill the lot? Alex knew that about ambushes, and O’Riordan should have too.

‘Bad luck, was it? Listen, soldier, you were at point – that means accepting the most exposed position in a combat military formation. You’re the lead man, the spearhead, the one advancing the unit through hostile or unsecured territory. The one with a need for constant and extreme operational alertness. I can’t know what happened for sure, but every time someone says “It’s not my fault”, it just makes me look at them harder. Says to me they think they’ve got nothing to learn.’

‘For Chrissake, I was lookin’ out,’ said Irish angrily, ‘I was alert, I was doin’ my fuckin’ job. Those mooks just came outta the dirt. I’m only here ’cause I reacted quickly. I know how to look out for myself and for the fuckin’ team as well. No one ever looked out for me, and I reckon no one ever –’

Alex felt a moment of anger wash across him and he punched the ground in front of the redheaded HAWC so hard that sand fell from the cliff face down onto O’Riordan’s head. The man’s intransigence was beginning to infuriate him, but he forced himself to push down the anger. He knew Irish might not have been solely to blame. Bottom line – it was because Alex was miles away, incapacitated, that they had walked into the ambush. If Alex hadn’t been flat on his back, Hex might still be alive.

Alex sat back against the wall and closed his eyes. ‘You know, Lieutenant, every single time I’m out in the field I learn something new. Use what happened to Hex as part of your education and next time you may avoid the ambush – for yourself or for all of us.’

Alex had faith in every HAWC that Hammerson sent him. They were the best of the best, the highest-trained soldiers on the planet, but they were still human and that meant they would make mistakes. In this business, mistakes didn’t mean a pay cut, demotion or a dressing-down from the boss; they meant death, and for Hex it had been a painful one.

All those men torn up under the Antarctic ice, and now Hex. I can’t lose anymore
, Alex thought.
Gotta complete the mission and get everyone through this time.

He opened his eyes and looked across at O’Riordan. Irish still had a pained look on his face, but he nodded and held out his hand. Alex, surprised, grasped it and shook it.

‘Nah, I want some of the hard tack. Looks okay.’

Alex laughed briefly and handed O’Riordan some of the dried beef, then pointed with his thumb to the cave mouth. ‘We’re probably going to need to punch through into the underground laboratory – without so much as waking a mouse. Think you can do it?’

O’Riordan pushed the beef into one side of his mouth and gave Alex a half-smile. ‘Walk in the park, Captain.’ He picked up a piece of loose rock and rubbed it with his thumb. ‘This entire mountain is Doran granite, felsic crystalline type. Very hard but very brittle. I can design a shaped symmetrical implosion assembly usin’ RDX cyclonite. It’ll give you about 400 kilobars of nearly noiseless blast pressure exerted on a rock wall of your choice – it’ll just crumble away to dust in front of us. Wake a mouse? Shit, I won’t even wake the ghosts.’

Alex was unsure whether he had crossed any bridges with his new HAWC but was satisfied with the man’s expertise and confidence. ‘Good man. I hope you decide to stay with us after we get home.’

Alex looked out over the darkened valley; sunrise was gaining on them. They needed to be well inside the cave system before daylight.
Better check in with the big guy
, he thought.

He walked a few paces away from O’Riordan, pressed a few buttons on his comm set and pushed it back into his pocket. Electronic pips and squeaks sounded in his helmet speaker as the signal bounced around the local networks and passed through numerous coders and firewalls before the gravelly voice of his commanding officer came on the line.

‘Go ahead, Arcadian,’ Hammerson said curtly.

The devices were meant to be field secure, but both men knew not to stay on the line too long or to give identifiable information.