Overlord (50 page)

“Why is that?” Mendenhall asked as the lift continued down into the blue ice.

“Because, old boy, the men and women here at Camp Alamo fully expect to die in this rather bizarre endeavor, and have volunteered for Overlord regardless.”

“Well,” Henri said as he felt his stomach lurch as the lift sped up and safety bars rose on all sides of the platform, “I haven’t volunteered for anything.”

The professor laughed heartily. “Again, good show, old man, always keep that sense of humor, it will help you in the coming days. You French, always the kidders in the face of danger, very admirable.”

Henri Farbeaux cursed his luck. “Who said I was kidding?”

The lift traveled down seven hundred feet through thick, blue ice, and that ice caused the professor’s laugh to echo endlessly off the carved walls of the shaft.

*   *   *

As the four men stepped off the lift they were confronted by no less than twenty armed United States Marines. The professor waved his hand and then nodded at the gunnery sergeant leading the squad. Jack was the first to notice the strange weapons in the hands of the Marines. They were lightweight and made of composite plastic. They were also crystal-tipped-barreled rifles, the sort Charles Hindershot Ellenshaw II almost blew both of his hands off with in a deep South American tunnel four years before as he fired off an alien designed weapon.

“It seems at least some of the alien tech is paying off,” Collins said as three of the Marines stepped forward and relieved the men of their bags. The gunnery sergeant stood at rigid attention in front of Jack.

The Marines were dressed in white colored BDUs as half of the twenty men stepped onto the lift and began the long climb to the surface. The rest of the Marine detail left the group of men as Professor Bennett waved the men forward from the elevator gallery. As they entered a carved-out section of ice the men had to stop as they gazed upon what looked like a large crystal tunnel system that stretched for miles. Five arms of tunneled-out ice went off in varying directions as small tram cars loaded with soldiers, sailors, and technicians in white lab coats transited to places unknown. The ice should have been melting in the comfortable atmosphere of the tunnels, but the general noticed the coolant lines that ran just beneath the surface kept the ice sound.

“Yes, a marvel of engineering by one of your universities—Montana, I think. Yes, Montana State. I’m afraid without the coolant lines we would all be bloody swimming.” Bennett approached a tram that was waiting for the three new members of Overlord. “We are surrounded by a very ancient inland sea, thus a lot of frozen water.”

The tram was plastic and traveled along an embedded rail that coursed through the floor of the tunnel system. As Jack and the others climbed onboard the professor punched in his desired destination. The sixteen-person vehicle silently moved off without the aid of a driver.

“Camp Alamo has one thousand different laboratories, five hundred shops for engineering purposes, along with research and development. We have personnel space for ten thousand military personnel and technicians. Completely separate, of course, is the center of the lake system where … well, where Overlord really resides.”

The tram moved forward without a question being asked because each of the three knew that any questions would bring on only more confusion as just another compartmentalized secret.

“We have to make arrangements for about a thousand additional personnel as we bring in survivors of not only the trainees from the Johnson Space Center, but we’ll soon also have guests from the Russian Navy. I understand a rather large vessel of theirs will never see the ocean again after it docks. She took quite a beating a few days ago not far from here.” Professor Bennett looked momentarily saddened. “Bloody shame, actually, as we owe that ship and her crew everything.”

Collins looked over at Mendenhall as they both thought the same thing at once. Sarah and Jason, if they were still alive, would be here shortly.

The tram arrived at a location that was filled with activity. The structures surrounding a large square were made of thick plastic and glass. The roadway here wasn’t ice but asphalt. The tram moved off as the men exited. They were in front of a large structure that flew the blue flag of the United Nations, with the corresponding flags of the once cooperative nations flanking the taller pole in the middle.

“Before we enter the briefing, gentlemen, two young men have requested an audience with you, General. Something about being old acquaintances or something like that. When you finish, feel free to join me inside.” The professor moved off and immediately started to greet others entering the structure with the many steel steps leading to double doors that were guarded by SAS men. These were identified by their red berets.

As Jack, Will, and Henri examined the surroundings of ice walls and the perfectly carved tunnel system, two men in battle whites approached. When Jack saw them he was amazed, to say the least. He had been told his command would involve specialists from all over the world, but never in his wildest imagination did he expect to see these two. He smiled and approached them as they stopped and saluted. Jack ignored the military protocol and held out his hand to the first man.

“Lieutenant Tram, you’re a long way from home.” Jack shook the small Vietnamese officer’s hand. He had served with Van Tram in the same South American action of four years before. The Vietnamese national was possibly the best man with a rifle he had ever seen, and had demonstrated that ability time and time again in the deep mines of Peru.

Tram smiled as he lowered his hand after Collins forsook the salute, then took Jack’s offered gesture and shook stiffly at first, but then with more enthusiasm.

“It is … good … to see … you … again, General,” Tram uttered in his attempt at English.

“And speaking the barbarian’s tongue too,” Jack joked, easing the small man’s demeanor.

Collins turned to the larger of the two. This officer was dressed the same as Tram but had a blue beret over his blond hair. The colonel held out his hand and Major Sebastian Krell of the German Army nodded his head and shook the general’s hand. The major had been one of the best assets he had in the same operation in which Tram had assisted. He had led the defense of the mines in Peru against an army of mercenaries; without him the technology stash would have never been recovered. Krell was also an officer who had been personally trained in black operation by Jack himself.

“Jack,” Major Krell said, forgoing all signs of military protocol as he shook his hand. “Glad to see you finally made it. I guess we volunteered again.”

“So you did, Sebastian, so you did. Don’t tell me you two are assigned to me?”

“Well, I don’t know about our little communist friend here, but when the chancellor said you would be leading the defense of some out of the way and likely dangerous place, I came.”

“Yeah, sorry about the death of the chancellor. I understand he was instrumental in getting this thing”—he gestured at the strange base that surrounded them—“off the ground.”

“Whatever this thing is,” Mendenhall said as he shook first Tram’s hand and then Krell’s.

“
Captain
Mendenhall? Now that’s rising fast through the ranks,” Sebastian said as he released Will’s hand. “It must be nice to have friends in high places … like generals, huh?”

“I was railroaded, just like the general.” The four men laughed. Will stepped back and gestured toward Henri. “Gentlemen, Colonel Henri Farbeaux of the French Army,” he said with the slightest trace of humor edging his voice.

Sebastian Krell hesitated before taking the Frenchman’s hand. “Colonel Farbeaux. I believe I’ve heard that name before.” He shook despite the fast-returning memory.

“Only if you’ve been in the post office and seen his picture,” Will not quite jokingly quipped about seeing a wanted poster of the infamous colonel.

Farbeaux shook both men’s hands and then looked around.

“Perhaps you can shed some light on what this is all about?” Henri asked as he was noticing soldiers of every nation on the planet as they went from place to place. The one thing he noticed the most was the strange uniforms of some of them. They were completely different from most as they were coveralls and had the emblems of NASA and the European Space Agency emblazoned on their breast pockets.

“Well, we were hoping you would share that with
us
. All we’ve done is train with our foreign buddies here”—he touched Tram on the shoulder—“and start to take courses in direct-line combat with the boys from your 82nd and 101st Airborne. And then more classes on armored tactics with the 23rd Armored Division of the German Army, which I understood even less than the American classes.”

Jack had no answers for the two officers, but he knew that he wanted to keep these two men close to him, Will, and Farbeaux. He owed these two men that much at the very least.

“Look, I guess I’m the man in charge,” he said, looking from Krell to Tram, “So I guess I can do whatever I want around here. So, you two consider yourselves a part of my staff.”

“Deal,” Sebastian said as he smiled over at Tram, who looked on in a fog of confusion.

*   *   *

Jack, Will, and Farbeaux were led directly into the large building constructed of aluminum and plastic. The barren walls attested to the fast fabrication of the council chamber and only the electronics suite and the monitors lining the walls were anything like normal to the men from the Event Group. Inside Collins and his men were introduced to General Dave Rhodes, commander of the 101st Airborne Division, whom Jack knew almost as well as his friends at Group. The last time Collins had seen Rhodes he had been a captain leading a company of Rangers during the Iraqi invasion. The men shook hands and then Jack was led to Colonel Wesley Bunting, acting commander of the 82nd Airborne. Then finally to one-star general Heinrich Bader, a stern-looking Wehrmacht officer commanding the controversial new German Armor Corps, the 23rd Panzer Division.

Jack shook the general’s hand as the man stood rigid. He knew the officer was the leader of the most controversial division on the planet simply because of the designation of the unit. The 23rd Panzer Division was famous for one thing in history: it was once known as the most brutal component of the once famous Afrika Corps. The 23rd had been disbanded after World War II and the new German chancellor, before his death, had reinstated the famed division, despite the protests of its own citizens. The memories of those hard days had yet to wane in the minds and hearts of many Germans. The strain of commanding such a division was clearly showing on the general’s face.

“General, I’ve heard good things about your new division. Top notch, I understand.”

“General Collins, my men will do their duty. As you know, the savior of our division died for us—not directly, of course, but he was responsible for us being reborn.”

Collins looked the tall German in the eyes and then smiled. “Well, from what I understand you’ll get a shot at the animals that killed him.”

The general clicked his heels, then moved off to join the two other commanders of the defensive units.

Jack turned and faced Will and Henri. “I wonder how long until all three of those men are on the traitors’ block when and if they refuse a direct order to come home?”

Farbeaux watched as they were approached by Sir Darcy Bennett. He leaned in so only Mendenhall and Collins could hear. “The better question, General, is, does it matter if we are all hung at home, or die amongst the ice and snow of this barren land? All in all, I think it doesn’t matter anymore, because whatever they have in store for us in this most bizarre place, it will end up accomplishing either outcome.”

“Colonel, you have to quit being so damn optimistic.”

Jack smiled at Will’s retort as Bennett walked up and gestured for the three men to take their seats. Then he walked to the front of the room and removed his heavy jacket and remained standing. Besides the military officers, Jack saw ten other men in varying states of dress. Most had lab coats on, with about a hundred pens and pencils in each pocket.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the first full staff meeting of the defense group for Camp Alamo. Since the arrival of General Collins this afternoon, this is the first full defensive meeting since Operation Overlord came into being four years ago.”

Jack sat at the opposite end of the table and noticed many of the faces were looking at him. Many shied away but most had the look of hope that he was capable of performing whatever his duties might entail. In other words, there was worry on most of those faces.

“General Collins will be addressing you later in the evening, once the old boy gathers his wits about him after his long and perilous journey. As for now we need all commands and civilian defensive groups to have full equipment and capability studies delivered to the offices of the commanding general no later than”—Bennett looked at the wall clock—“eighteen hundred hours.” He looked at Jack for confirmation, but the general remained silent and didn’t react. How in the hell was he supposed to know when the reports should be delivered? He was sure the cooks in whatever mess hall they were going to eat at knew more about his duties than he did at the moment.

“General, we have developed some amazing defensive equipment for your units to operate with that should provide an edge, if and when they are needed. But after Beijing and Mumbai, we truly hope those measures won’t be needed, and we can get Overlord up before the Grays know what is happening right under their noses.”

General Bader stood and in a nod of deference toward Bennett, apologizing beforehand for interrupting, he partially turned to face Jack.

“Herr Bennett, General Collins, I must know the timetable for my men to take to the field for operational training on the new cannon for our tanks and armor. We have no OJT for maneuvering in this kind of environment. We attend classes, but as the general knows that is no substitute for field training—especially with equipment never before used in combat. That amounts to a disaster in the works.” The general sat down to the nods of the men from the 101st and 82nd Airborne.