Kraken Rising: Alex Hunter 6 (24 page)

Sam Reid waited in the snow. It was heavier now, the wind having eased back so it fell in sheets, long curtains of white that piled up, obscuring much of the McMurdo Base, and also turning the soft mounds into growing hills around him.

Jack Hammerson had kept them up to date on the small boats that had arrived on the Antarctic shoreline, dispatched by the
Kunming
, to immediately birth a half dozen high-speed snow skis that had powered furiously over the ice and snow towards them.

A few miles out, they had stopped, and Sam knew what that meant. Their visitors had taken to foot. Stealth was their objective now, and therefore the attack was imminent.

Sam stretched, growing bored. He flicked ice crystals from his face as he stood waiting, like a colossus in the snow. He was six feet, eight inches tall and as wide as two men. He was by far the most powerful HAWC in Jack Hammerson’s arsenal, bar Alex Hunter, but Sam liked to think his strength and skill was natural, so that put him in front.

He rolled massive shoulders, not feeling the bitter cold inside the Advanced Combat Suit’s military grade exoskeleton. On Sam, the synaptic electronics were a molded framework that was built on, and into, his body. A metal bracing belt fit around his waist, and comprised a power-pack and supportive base for the banded ribbing up the back, with needle-like nodes pressed into his spinal cord, basically making the suit’s mechanics part of his nervous system.

The titanium hyper-alloy composite exoskeleton framework was enhanced for full combat mode, with molded ceramic armor plating that had a density nearly off the Mohs hardness scale. Sam, the HAWC, was now a mobile heavy weapon.

His scanners beeped, letting him know that his visitors were now at the perimeter’s line of snow mounds, and were probably taking up flanking positions and readying their attack. He deployed the helmet shield and a full-face mask telescoped up and over his face in an armadillo plating structure, just leaving a clear panel for vision.

A digital readout above Sam’s brow showed him the time they had left until the two navies were head to head: 16 hours, 21 minutes, and 45 seconds, 44, 43 … Events were accelerating.

He grinned, ready. What would they make of him? A giant, made more giant by the suit. He turned slowly, switching to thermal. He could see the white-clad bodies, flaring red, each easing forward, undoubtedly seeing him, but unsure if he was really a man or not. He counted twelve, and detected lots of metal –
lots of weapons
.

Sam spoke calmly. “Targets acquired. Status?”

“Ready, all grids,” came a soft reply.

“On my word.”

First, the olive branch, he thought. He held up one huge hand, and switched to external speaker.

“This base is designated territory of the United States of America. You will not advance any further.” He translated: “
Zhège jīdì pī zh
ǐ
dìng měilìjiān hézhòngguó de l
ǐ
ngt
ǔ
. N
ǐ
bù huì tíchū rènhé jìnyībù de
.”

Sam waited, but the men continued to edge towards him. Last chance, he thought. “
Go home, boys!
”

The first few bullets that struck him came out of the snow line and were noiseless – standard automatic rifles, each with a sound baffler, and each hit his chest with a dull thud that barely marked the armor plating of his suit.

The next was something more – a high velocity slug that hit his face dead center, compressing the armor and punching his head back.
Sniper rifle, big caliber, M99 probably,
Sam thought,
and it fucking hurt
. He felt blood on his lips, and he growled through gritted teeth.

He roared into his mic. “Take ’em down.” Sam lifted his huge arm, and along the forearm a barrel was attached. He pointed at one of the three figures coming at him fast, and immediately a shotgun blast roared from the barrel. Boom after boom, the rubber-nosed slugs found the approaching PLA soldiers and kicked them off their feet. Without body armor, the big rubberized slugs would break bones, or render even a big man unconscious.

Three men went down, and the approaching soldiers immediately split their attack. Several more men looped rapidly towards Sam, zigzagging, and others peeled off left and right to try and enter the camp from behind him.

“Okay, three down, three more coming to party, that leaves six trying to gate crash from behind. Take ’em out, people.”

The snow moved, and HAWCs materialized close to the attacking soldiers. Even bigger and faster warriors suddenly confronted the PLA commandos. Very few shots were fired, as hand-to-hand engagement was executed quickly and efficiently.

Sam grunted, and held his arms wide, as the men sprinted at him. Handgun fire pelted into his torso. Finally, Sam moved – the suit’s hydraulics moving his muscles at a blistering speed. First, he shot forward, faster than any normal man, to lower a shoulder and strike one of the white-clad PLA commandos square in the chest. The soft flesh and bone was no match for the two-legged truck that ran into him, and the man bounced away to lay still.

Sam then spun, finding his next target, and flinging out an arm that caught a second man across the back, smashing him into snowdrift. The third and final soldier put his head down, and sprinted hard, ignoring Sam and instead heading towards the line of snow-covered buildings of the McMurdo base. His head was tucked down, and his hands were working furiously on something clutched to his chest. Sam had a sinking feeling and exploded into action, running the man down, grabbing him and lifting him in the air.

The man turned and screamed something, and Sam immediately saw the package in his hands. Numbers were already counting down, and he could see the soda can-sized cylinders of different colored fluids – it was a chemical incendiary device, and a large one.

“Bomb!” he screamed, and like a hammer thrower, he began to spin with the man in one arm and when he had enough centrifugal force, he released the PLA soldier. The ACS suit gave Sam’s already phenomenal strength a super powered boost, and the man was flung into the air to travel fifty feet up and over the rise, falling behind a large snow bank.

“Fire in the – ”

The immediate explosion that erupted staggered the huge HAWC, and even though he raised an arm and planted trunk-like legs, the hydraulic pistons struggled to maintain his balance.

Sam had crushed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, he was shocked to see that most of the snow around them had melted from the heat.
Sonofabitch
, he thought, imagining the devastation that it would have inflicted on the base’s population.

“Sound off.”

His HAWC team rose up among the sludge and debris, each counting off, most holding one or more PLA bodies, now looped at the wrists and ankles. In the closest McMurdo cabin, Sergeant Bill Monroe stood in a doorway, grinning and giving Sam a thumbs up.

Sam nodded to him, and then sent an information squirt to Jack Hammerson.

“Storm passed, McMurdo is still ours.”

“Acknowledged.” There was no joy, surprise, or even satisfaction in Hammerson’s voice. The older warrior was just moving his pieces on the board, and there were more moves yet to come. “Proceed to next engagement. Over.”

“On my way.” Sam turned back to his team and circled a finger in the air. The HAWCs began to drag their captors into the McMurdo camp. Sam turned back to the snow drifts, smiling.
Time to pay our Brit friends a little visit
.

The mountainous HAWC, encased in the armored suit, began to plow through the snow to the Ellsworth base, picking up speed as he went.

*

“It was premature.” General Banguuo’s eyes followed Chung Wanlin as the smaller man paced, his face near purple. “Sending a PLA team to McMurdo was premature, obviously anticipated, and now neutralized.”

The minister stopped and spun, his eyes narrowed. “At least I had the courage to act.” He grinned, but it was more like a death’s-head grimace. “It is true, I am not a soldier … but are you?”

Banguuo smiled and got slowly to his feet. The general was a veteran of border skirmishes, and was a formidable man compared to the slight bureaucrat. “Be careful you do not leave this room with your expensive teeth in your pocket, dear minister.” He came slowly around his desk, his eyes drilling into Wanlin.

Wanlin started to back towards the door. “I will inform the general secretary …”

“The general secretary has been fully briefed …
by me
.” Banguuo kept the man pinned with his gaze. “Your bullishness has forced us into a situation that neither we, nor the Americans, wish to find ourselves in.”

Banguuo stood over Wanlin. “The cost of a war right now would break us. The cost of a war with America, could
annihilate us
.” The general pushed down an urge to beat the man senseless. He inhaled deeply, and then let it out slow. “But now, if we just turn around and go home, the loss of face in front of our greatest rival and competitor would be unthinkable.”

Wanlin straightened slightly. “We would never back down.”

“No, no, we cannot. Thanks to you, we have the tiger by the tail, and dare not let go.”  Banguuo turned to walk to his window. “The aircraft carrier will be there soon.” He turned. “Pray they blink before we do.”

Comrade Liu Yandong continued to work his way along the dark river bank. He silently prayed that there were no more crossings necessary, as he didn’t think his nerves could bear it. The pressure, the darkness, and the lack of food – he
hoped
– were all making his stomach jump and twist. The cave stream had gotten wider, and in turn the shoreline had shrunk. In addition, the water appeared to be slowing. It could only mean one thing – an obstruction.

Liu rounded the bend and his shoulders slumped. It was as he suspected. The river cave ended with a wall of tumbled rocks, totally blocking any further progress. He moved his flashlight over the wall; some of the boulders were no more than the size of a bread loaf, but others were car sized. There was no army on earth that could shift them without moving equipment. He approached the stones and looked up. The barrier went all the way to the ceiling, not even leaving a gap at the top, and the rocks were slime coated, and in some places looked welded together from the countless ages they had rested upon one another. This was an ancient fall.

He breathed out his frustration and waited, knowing that Captain Yang was a man who often shot the messenger. He grimaced as he felt his stomach roil again, and then felt the pain drop lower, to force pressure on his bowels. He needed to shit …
now.

Liu looked around quickly. The rest of the squad was still a few hundred feet back – he had time. There were a few small places close to the cave walls and he strode into one, already loosening his belt. He dug a small hole in the dark sand, switched off his light and squatted over it.

There was no explosive gas as he expected, but instead a thick stream that fell heavily to the sand. As well, there was little stink, more just an odor he had experienced once when he had been on his father’s farm. His father had slaughtered a pig, and the air had filled with a hot, coppery, offal smell.

His anus itched madly afterwards, and as he had no paper, he had no choice but to pull his pants back up, grimacing at the unpleasant wetness between his cheeks.

He looked back down the cave, and only just made out the glow of the approaching group. They’d be around the bend soon. Liu tightened his belt, his gut feeling slightly better, and went to step away when a tiny sound caused him to pause. A sticky wetness, a movement like dying fish flip-flopping in a puddle. He turned back, knowing where the sound was coming from, and with a rising sense of fear, he lifted his flashlight and flicked it on, pointing it down at where he had moved his bowels.

“
Ah no, no, no
.” Liu backed up, feeling his stomach contents threaten to explode up and over his lips. The brown red mush puddle was a mass of glossy black threads, some no thicker than hair, but others pencil thick. The things were shiny, eyeless, but coiling and twisting, sliding through his feces as if searching for the warm flesh that they had just been expelled from.

“
Eeyaa!”
He looked back down the cave tunnel and saw the outline of his squad now appearing. His first instinct was to tell his leader, Captain Yang, but he remembered how he had dealt with Han Biao.
Infected
, was all Yang said, treating the man like a dog, and calmly putting a bullet in his brain.

His throat tickled now, and the crawling coiled within him from the back of his nose and inner ears right down to feet.
Infected, infected, infected
.

He made a soft mewling in his throat, knowing that he now had limited choices. Getting out was not his concern anymore, but all his life he had abided by a code of honor. He would not go out like a dog.

He hated them, then. The things inside him that had invaded his body and had won the battle without him even knowing there was a fight. Anger and frustration energized him. He wanted to kill them all … and he would.

He dropped his pack, quickly searching for the small tin of cooking kerosene. He found it, and then fumbled again in his kit, finding his second item. He straightened.

Liu crushed his eyes shut, held an image of his parents standing there, waving, proud of him for attaining his rank in the Special Forces.

No, he would not die like a dog. He would die like a true soldier
. He held the image of his parents as he unscrewed the tin’s lid, and in a single motion, brought it to his lips and drained the liquid.

He grimaced as the scalding chemical made its way down his throat and into his belly, stripping the lining as it went. Before he lost his nerve, he opened his mouth, held the lighter to his lips and spun the wheel.

*

“Stay back.” Yang held up a hand. His men stopped their forward rush immediately. All eyes were on the bucking body, flames shooting from the wide-open mouth and nose. The orange and blue tongues had leaked down over the neck and across the head, and the short-cropped hair of Liu Yandong had singed away, adding to the oily smoke rising to collect under the cave ceiling.

Yang walked forward alone, his flashlight in one hand and revolver in the other. He saw the puddle of squirming excrement, and also the frying worms that exited the dead man’s mouth to curl up on the dark sand.

He grunted and holstered his weapon. He clicked his fingers and pointed at two of his soldiers. “Bury that, it will suffocate us if it burns much more.” He half turned and then looked back.

The men rushed forward to kick the black sand over the body, extinguishing the flames within a dark mound. Yang sauntered towards the cave wall of tumbled boulders, Liu Yandong already forgotten. He put his hands on his hips, surveying the blockage, before turning.

“Professor.”

“That man,” – Shenjung looked panicked – “
those men
, something infected them, from the water. It must be avoided.”

“And how do we do that? Fly across it?” Yang’s gaze turned quizzical. “Are you sick?”

“Huh? I am not,” Shenjung replied, feeling his torso.

Yang shrugged. “No, you’re not, and neither am I. Han Biao died because his wounds got infected. Liu, because he drank from the stream, when he was warned not to.”

“Liu committed suicide. Horrible.”

“Horrible?” Yang exhaled evenly through his nose. “No,
brave
. He was a true PLA warrior in his soul. We never surrender, we fight on, past fear, past pain, past all adversity.” He half turned, raising his voice. “Liu chose to fight his inner demons – to the end.” He raised a fist, lifting his voice. “When we face adversity, when we come to a barrier, we do not tremble or wail. We show them that we are harder, stronger …
even than stone
.”

Yang had his fist still in the air, and held his smile. In the darkest corners of his mind, he wondered if
he
became infected, whether he would end himself like Liu, or whether he would run screaming into the darkness. In that instant, he resolved that his men would never know. While he remained brave, or at least looked it, then they would hold together as well.

A demonstration of his resolve then. He looked from the men to the tumble of huge boulders, and then pointed. “Blow it up.”

“What?
No!
” Shenjung Xing waved his hands. “This is not a good idea. The blast could bring the entire cave down on us.”

There was silence as the soldiers’ eyes slid from the scientist back to their captain.

Yang stayed calm. “And what would you have us do, Professor? Go back to … where? Maybe wait here until we all have a belly full of worms? Or perhaps simply sit down here and wait until the wall erodes away by itself?” He scoffed.

“There must be another way. The risks …”  Shenjung pleaded.

“Yes, the risks. There are
always
risks. And men like us are not afraid to face them, so men like you can sleep safe at night.” He turned and clicked his fingers. “Proceed.” Yang started to walk quickly back down the dark cave. When he and Shenjung were a hundred paces back, he stopped and turned.

His soldiers scrambled over the tumbled boulders, planting fragmentation grenades into crevices at a strategic position of the wall. They turned, waiting.

Yang nodded, and the men danced from grenade to grenade pulling the pins and then scrambling down, having mere seconds to try and get to safety. Yang backed everyone around the corner.

The explosion was near deafening in the enclosed space, and the shock wave thumped past the men who were crowded in close to the wall of the tunnel. The monstrous echo was like a titanic drumbeat pulsing away down the cave. They waited, no one moving. Seconds passed, and the echoes had now fallen away to silence.

Yang was first out, waving a hand in front of himself to try and dispel the floating rock dust. He coughed. There was the sound of rocks falling into water, but the air was so choked with dust that visibility was down to a few feet.

“Hold.” Yang knew the dust would settle soon. He turned to the stream and lifted his flashlight. Through the gritty mist he could see its black sinuous surface was no more like an oily sheet of glass, but was now moving, and fast. He smiled,
open, I win
, he thought.

He was about to order the men forward, when he paused. There was a creaking sound, like the splintering of wooden boards. He stepped out, holding up his light. The air was clearing, but he still couldn’t make out the end of the tunnel. He turned, sighted on one of his men, and then motioned with his head. “Go and look.”

The young soldier nodded once and sprinted forward. He was soon swallowed in the foggy dust. Yang waited.

“Clear.” The voice floated back. “More tunnel, sir.”

Yang looked at Shenjung, feeling both relieved and vindicated. The professor was frowning as he looked at the stream. The water sizzled, popped, and jumped and he stared hard at its surface. At first he assumed it was something underneath pushing upwards, but the more the air cleared, the more he saw that instead, it was something dropping down from above. He lifted his flashlight beam to the ceiling of the cave. A dark crack had opened,
no
, was still opening, and unzipping down the length of the tunnel.

Shenjung pointed at the ceiling, and Yang screamed a single word.
“Run!”

He turned and sprinted towards the newly cleared cave end with Shenjung and his men following him instantly. They clambered over the broken stones, and the water, now free, jumped and swirled as it kept pace with them. There came a huge splash from behind them, and some of his men yelled with fear. Yang didn’t turn, knowing it was probably a rock falling from the ceiling. There came more pounding splashes, then the roar of a giant and the sound of boiling, rushing liquid.

Yang leapt over another boulder, sprinting hard. There must have been another cave stream directly over this one. The explosion had ruptured its bottom, and the streams were about to merge – right on top of them. He put his head down and ran harder.

The growing roar was a living thing that shook the cave around them. The water was an oncoming train, and its speed was about the same. They never had any hope of outrunning it.

Seconds later, Yang and his men were like rats in a drain, snatched up and flushed away in the current. They tumbled down a dark pipe towards a destination that was out of their control.

The water boiled around Yang, pummeling him, throwing him from cave wall to ceiling and then to floor. He tried to keep his eyes and mouth jammed tight, praying that none of the horrifying worms would find their way inside him.

In the inky black water, he struck another body, hard. He went to snatch at it but it was already gone, and in the next instant a massive surge threw him so violently into a cave wall, that he was momentarily stunned.

His lungs were going into spasms, and involuntarily, he opened his mouth wide to drag in a huge breath of air. But instead, the gritty coldness that surged down his throat and into his lungs brought him back instantly. He screamed out the last air in his lungs, and spewed the bile in his gut along with the water. The next thing he knew he was falling through space –
falling, falling
.

It is over
, he thought, just before the impact.